Sexuality (Completed) [SLOWLY BEING EDITED]

Netflix and Chill

Desta and I have been back together for four days now, and honesty, I've never felt more alive.

Love does crazy things to you. Since we've patched up our relationship, I've practically had this stupid grin on my face 24/7. Even when I burnt my finger cooking breakfast this morning, because Shredder, my newly adopted cat, spooked me out of a day dream about Desta by rubbing against my leg, I shouted, scowled, sucked my finger for 0.5 seconds, then continued smiling.

I've come to realise that binge watching shit on Netflix with your man is one of the best things that you can do in the world. Even though I already watched the first season of AHS on Netflix, I did it by myself, and not with Desta. Hence, us sitting in his living room, in front of his smart TV, watching Tate scare the living shit out of Violet and some other chick.

He picked me up from work today, and now, I feel sticky. I haven't bathed since seven this morning. I glance at my watch. Nine thirty. That's thirteen and a half hours.

"Desta."

"Yes, babe?"

Oh god. Every time he calls me babe, I get the fucking feels.

"I... I have to shower."

"'Kay. Just hurry back to me."

The thing about me, is that I take forever to shower. I get a bit preoccupied as the shower head sprays warm, relaxing water all over my body. As a result, when I come out of the shower, and return to the living room at ten past eleven, I find Desta sleeping like an infant on the couch. He looks so much like a child while sleeping, that I can't bare to wake him.

God, he's so beautiful when he's asleep. He has a light snore, and his mouth is open, and settled into peaceful expression. He looked so relaxed, and he even has a little bit of drool escaping from the side of his mouth. I have to restrain myself from licking it, and running my tongue into his mouth.

God. You are one lovesick son of a bitch.

I really am also tired, though, but I didn't discuss staying over with him. I don't want to be too invasive, but I also don't want to piss him off by leaving.

What should I do? Text him?

I look at him, and his phone is on the ground in front of the couch. He doesn't have any friends, so he doesn't bother turning his phone on silent, because he knows the only people to call and text so late at night will be his family, or myself; Digicel* and other things like that don't call and text past eleven.

So if you text him... his phone will go off, and he'll wake up.

Should I leave a note?

Ew! No! That's so cheesy!

So I leave him there sleeping peacefully on the couch, go outside to call a taxi, and go home.

***

It is twelve minutes past one, and I hear shuffling coming from downstairs, more than likely in the kitchen. Probably Shredder. I named her due to her habit of clawing everything in sight.

She was just a stray who wouldn't stop stealing food from my stove. I got tired of it, and thought that maybe if I feed her, she'll stay away from my food. Well, she sort of moved in after that.

She's quite tame, and we've come to this mutual agreement in which I feed her, and we comfort each other.

However, when I descend my stairs into the darkness of the living room, through which you have to pass to get to the kitchen, I come face to face with a pair of russet brown eyes which are so familiar by now, I'd know them anywhere.