THE PSO (Phone Sex Operator)

Coffee & A feather

 If someone asked me: "What is your most favourite place in the whole wide world?" I'd tell them, without hesitation: "My bed."

 I love sleeping. Well, the bit before and after the act, considering I'm not exactly aware during the sleeping part. The cosiness of snuggling up in my toasty, silky-smooth, crushed-velvet bedding set after a hard days work is another level of happiness I can't even describe. Literal cloud 9 vibes.

And then comes morning and the bed feels warmer, borderline too hot but also just right; somehow softer in my hazy should-I-get-up-or-treat-myself-with-a-morning-nap train of thought.

The sun is shining outside, making my silver-grey curtains look lighter in colour than they actually were. If I open my eyes, I know I'd be able to see dust particles flying around, dancing in the morning glow from my window.

 Inhaling through my nose, I find the room stuffy, a bit on the musky side. Not a bad thing, but I wish I'd opened my windows the night before so I could get a taste of fresh air. I never do, though; despite thinking the same thing most mornings. It was too dangerous, especially this time of year. Opened windows were an invitation for my worst fear...

 Spiders.

 Just the thought of their tiny, hairy bodies and long, wiggly legs makes me shiver and I pull the duvet tighter around my shoulders. I could almost feel the creepy buggers crawling on me.

 So it had to be the worst time for my house-mate, Zach, to tickle my ear with one of his long, hot-pink, pea-cock-looking feathers used for – scratch that.

I don't want to know.

I squeal, jump, and scramble onto the floor. My gray eyes narrow at the evil bastard having a laughing fit on the right side of my double bed.

"What the fuck," I huff at him, too tired to see the humour in this right now. "You're a real shithead, you know that?" 

My chest heaves as I try to calm myself.

"Y-your face!" Zach giggles, looking far too handsome for someone who had more than likely just woken up. He was still in his mix-match pyjama's - blue shorts with yellow emoji faces and a white shirt with 'snuggle bear' printed in black across his chest. His hair was messy; he had a style which was short on the sides with a good few inches of hair on top. I wasn't sure what it was called exactly, but the wave of hair on his head fell to the side, looking as if it needed a brush.

"Zach, it's not funny!" I try to tell him over the sound of his laughter. I was this close to stomping my foot at him. "I thought you were a spider!"

 Okay that sounded childish, but I was standing there in just a pair of pink knickers and a black strap top, and I was cold, my exposed skin beginning to form goose-bumps thanks to the slight chill in the air. Yet again I damn him for ruining my warm burrito.

That only made him laugh louder, and at one point, he even snorts.

I shake my head, telling myself it was out of annoyance and definitely not out of fondness. It was hard to believe he was a twenty-five-year-old man. He acts less than half his age most of the time.

At the sound of his snort, I can't stop the twitch of my lips. I was pissed at him, no way was he going to make me laugh but very quickly, I was losing my battle. Have you ever tried staying serious with someone when they had an incredibly contagious laugh? It was damn near impossible.

 "Whatever!" I say, rolling my eyes as a smile breaks out on my lips. I cross my arms over my chest in an attempt to keep up my act but Zach already knew that he'd gotten away with his prank.