Asocial Existence | Eminem

06

'A Night at the Opera' plays from my record player as I go through my second time reading 'The Divine Comedy.

Many find the story hard to get through, and while I don't believe in a God, I really enjoy how it's written. It's seven-hundred years old but its poetic and intricate writing still suedes me today. Dante's work is a cornerstone of literature, so I believe it's worth everyone giving it a shot.

I'm enjoying my time alone much more now that Marshall is the only person in my life. Sure he's at work for eight hours each day, excluding weekends, but I'm still used to having every waking hour to myself. Now he wakes me up ridiculously early and comes to my place right when he's off work. I'm sure he has friends... I hope, but he seems to prioritize me.

I hear a subtle jangle and mentally prepare myself for him to burst through that door any second.

"Marshall is here! I've brought food and weed!" He announces loudly, running down the hallway to get to my living room, stopping and staring at my elegant composure as I slowly close the book and turn to him.

"You're so sexy" he mutters wide-eyed. I'm not in my typical cozy clothes since today was decently hot, considering Detroit's weather can change in an instant. I'm wearing a very well-fitted black crop top tee-shirt and a very low-waisted white free-flowing skirt that reaches my calves.

"Why thank you, I'm sure you'd look good too if you weren't wearing a shirt that is so baggy that it could double as a dress," I speak in a petty tone, smiling sadistically at him.

He flashes an angry face before answering, "I was referring to the way you're sitting on the couch, and how fancy you look reading an old ass book while Queen plays on a fucking record. You've got your life way too together. But yes, the way your crop top shows off your tits to me is pretty sexy too. Especially paired with that skirt giving me a good look at your nice ass hips." He grins, dropping the bag of snacks on the coffee table and taking a seat beside me.

I watch him take his shirt off and throw it across the room, resting his head on his hand, gazing at me. "Do I look sexy now?" He grins with a chuckle.

"Yes, I'll give you that" I mumble. I'm not going to lie to him. He is incredibly well-toned and fit.

"Thank you very much!" He grins, grabbing the bag of snacks and pulling out a bag of Doritos.

"I like them, I'm sure they're not up to your taste, though. Let me guess? Given what you're doing right now, I think the one missing piece is a charcuterie board on the coffee table. You can eat your fancy chess while you read your fancy book and listen to your "fancy" music." He mocks me, but I don't really care, it's quite funny.

"First off, everyone needs to read the Divine Comedy in school-" I start but am cut off.

"I failed ninth grade three times then dropped out," he tells me, making my jaw drop.

"What the fuck? That's why you're so stupid!" I exclaim in a joking manner, making him hit me casually.

"Ain't true, I know the meaning of more words than you'll ever know to exist!" He argues, getting a raised eyebrow out of me.

"Alright, Funambulism, go" I speak, betting him to define the word.

"Damn you just pulled that out? But Funambulism means quote, "a demonstration of cleverness"! Hah!"

"Shit alright... fair" I mutter, thinking of another word, "Ectomorphic?"

"Just means skinny... hey Mallory, you're Ectomorphic, did you know that?" He chuckles, making me roll my eyes.

"Yes very much so... alright, dilettante"

"Quote, 'an amateur engaging in an activity without serious intention'"

"Yeah well, that's you getting involved in my life" I joke, making him laugh.

"You think you're so fucking smart? Well... you are but let's just pretend that you aren't so this can advance to a good make-out session please" he suggests, making me giggle surprisingly.

"Naw not yet, if we're having a make-out session it's going to be a mid-movie," I tell him, getting a shocked but intrigued look from him.

"Now what shall we watch? I don't own romance"

"No romance? Damn, my type of woman. Please don't say you watch any chick flicks?" He groans, disappointing me. How foolish of him to think I'd actually watch those, let alone take them seriously.

"Do any of these DVDs have an egregious looking, eye-burning, pink cover? No, didn't think so. We're watching American Psycho"

"Ah yes, sexism and murder, just what turns me on!" He says sarcastically.

"You're not looking deep enough. It's an incredible satire on materialistic desires in men and their sexual insecurity. It also uses the Yuppie culture of the 80s to make us question the events and the reality that is going on in the story. I've got the book, you should borrow it, it goes much deeper"

"You sound like the fucking guy himself when you talk like that, give it up." He chuckles, making me grin. "You got the accent down too"

"It's fun to talk like that, what can I say?" I grin, inserting the disk and pressing play.

I walk back over and sit on his lap as a little 'fuck you'. His chest is warm but hard and he wraps his arms around my waist. Our relationship is weird, to say the least. our banter is constant, we do more friend-oriented things but Marshall's horniness constantly presents itself. 

"Naw, I refuse to do anything sexual with you during the viewing of this roller coaster of a movie" he grunts.

"Yes, but dry humping me on a hill and instructing me to deep throat a popsicle in a convenience store parking lot is somehow better?" I laugh. "I'm fucking with you, I don't want you to do anything sexual, watch the art that is this movie and behave yourself"

"Touché bitch" he mumbles, resting his chin in the crack of my neck.