Tattooed On You

X: Hangover

"You sure he's just a roommate though?" John asks again, his eyebrow still curved in question while he buttons his pants shut.

On the other end of the bed, I throw a sweater over my head before nodding in confirmation. "Yeah. Just a roommate."

John's expression immediately changes into one I haven't seen on him before. Mock? Disbelieve? Maybe even amusement? I can't quite place my finger on it, but I do know he's not having any of it.

"Listen, Jo," he starts, also pulling his shirt over his head, and by that, blocking my view from his delicious tatted skin. "We're just fun. I'm fine with just being fun honestly. But I'd like to know shit since we don't use protection. I'm straight with you; at the moment, I'm only fucking you. If we continue this, I want that reassurance from you too."

All the while, his eyes on me stay friendly and open. There is not a trace of disappointment or anger visible. He's like an open book; straight to the point and honest, and the sharp contrast with Hero once again doesn't go unnoticed on me.

Why the fuck does he hold this much power over my thoughts?

"I'm not fucking Hero," I answer, more defensive than I meant. When he raises his eyebrow, I add, "No, really, I'm not."

"Then what was that downstairs all about?" He explains his risen eyebrow and overall expression, and it only now dawns on me how ridiculous the whole charade was. About blueberries.

"It was mostly about me and that girl," I weakly start, suddenly feeling a lot less confident than I did when I denied fucking Hero. And that's only a quarter true now, I reckon.

John chuckles while he snaps his lip from his mouth and crosses his arms in front of his chest. "I figured you two don't get along. But the question is why?"

"She's my hate mate," I say in explanation, by lack of any other words that seem to fit the situation.

"Hate mate?" John chuckles, more entertained now. "Like the opposite of soulmate?"

For a moment I smile because he catches on so quickly, and for the first time, it makes me realize how much this man could actually be a good match for me.

"Yeah, exactly like that. The moment I met her, our souls just hated. Hero doesn't have anything to do with it." I sound convincing, too convincing even, considering that I know it's anything but true.

But for some reason, I don't want to admit to John that he's right, because I know there will be a good possibility he'll end things with me. And the idea of not having him anymore is depressing. Especially because things between Hero and I are royally fucked as well.

I just can't lose both options and be miserable.

And although John seems hesitant in believing my explanation, he does nod his head. "Okay, if you say so. Just be honest and open, aight?"

I nod as the tension leaves my body, noting how he's ready to drop the subject. My hopes are confirmed when he steps into his shoes.

"Imma head out. See you Tuesday at work, yeah?" He asks while striding towards me and folding his hand around my chin so I properly look at him. "If you want, we can stick it to work. Densel isn't there anyway. Or at my place?"

I manage to give him a small smile but I hate what he just proposed. First, he couldn't wait to have me in a bed, and now he's obviously changed his mind. Maybe he even regrets fucking me in my bed. Whatever way it swings, it feels like I'm seriously downgraded.

"We're cool," he reassures, and after a short kiss, one that doesn't include any tongue or fire, I watch him leave.

And all the tension -from now, back downstairs, and even from last night still- is suddenly overwhelming. So much in fact, that all I want to do now I lay in bed and watch some Hollywood Daddy on tv.