Russian Central-Ties.

Peanut.

A/N: A little something because i have writer's block. This chapter is unedited because it was meant to stay a draft until further notice. Oh well.

"Politically correct, I must say that i am--"

However often i remind Levina about turning off the television one too many before she began to drift off to sleep, never does any good. "You're a lazy bum," I scrutinize the area around her cocooned self, shaking my head in disgust towards several different bag's of unhealthy snacks. "But i still love you." I groaned, snatching every visible bag of Doritos and a pickles jar with open peanut-butter packets. How does she even tolerate eating this? The woman has no proper discipline towards her stomach whatsoever. Though i can't exactly complain given my situation...but I'm gonna.

I wonder. Strutting to our kitchen's trash can prior to rinsing my hands twice. If i deep-fried a chair, would she say that taste good too? Maybe. Moaning came from where she lay now in the living-room as i hear her loud shifting, though still preferably cocooned.

A angry cry erupted from her strained vocals. "Alligator?" She questioned, probably struggling to even lift herself off the low-sat couch. "Alligator, where's my pickles jar? Your always moving my snack's." I heard her exhale dramatically.

The gall of this woman. After ten more seconds i responded, voice clipped and obviously annoyed with the random name calling. "Leave it hanging around, we'll have roaches for roommates. They might even pay thier full share of the rent, now that i consider it." After reviewing what i said, i sighed. "M'sorry. It's just these..."

Hearing her footsteps approach i go silent, leaning on the sink's edge for stability. Levina, still wraped like a purple burrito in her blanket, blonde hair frizzed and matted in some areas, patting me on my shoulder as tear's gather in my unsteady gaze. "Hormones. There a real bitch." She nodded, so no need for me to explain further about this already bizarre situation.

And it's your fault. I wanted to shout, the harah words at the tip of my tongue; coating it like just before a vomit much like I've done for several morning's. Nothing would stay down, for long anyway. But all in all it wasn't entirely her fault, per-say. I did agree to go with her to a nightclub, what an absurd idea that was and turned out to be for my book-junkie self. I knew i should've finished that romace novel instead. But no, hearing on the news that night to be careful for many gangs and thugs were lurking about random nightclub's i just had to be the responsible one and care too much. Should've lettin' her get kidnapped for being a party whore. Irritably i grumble incoherent words for if i had indeed gone through with that --and something did by chance did happen, I'd never let myself live it down.

I side glance her, bitterly with a pout to match. "I hate you, Levina Sage." I claim halfheartedly. Pointing to my stomachs barely noticeable pouch that most would assume i had just gained weight if one were to see, motioning to the gut of mine, i hiss at her. "Me and little, Unknown-father-of-my-child." Turning away from her with flustered cheeks to recieve a bottled water from the fridge. Sometimes even i were surprised by my unsettled capricious attitude. Honestly it wasn't intentional, I was commonly known as the sane one out of us both.

She giggled humorously, though there isn't a damn thing comical about such, i was a baby-mama with no clue of little peanuts true pappy? But miss sadistic here beside me often found solace in my defeat for i couldn't grasp hair-pulling hormones correctly. As the online books for pregnancies agree profoundly on, on numerous sights. Her loving side peeked now, pinching my cheek, knowing i despised those antics. "Aww, sugar foot. Your so cute, i swear!"