Dirt brown walls, a bright red blanket covering me, grey carpet. This isn’t my house. Where am I? I feel an arm wrap around my waist, their forehead pressed into my shoulder. Another one night stand.
I roll over to face the unknown person, opening my eyes a bit more. Reflex lies next to me, his arm still wrapped around my waist, his brown eyes closed off from the world, and his messy hair lies on his forehead instead of the usual perfected quiff. He looks better like this, innocent. It looks as if he couldn’t hurt a fly, but once he opens his eyes I should know better. I’ve already faced Reflex’s wrath and I’m assuming that wasn’t that bad.
“Staring isn’t polite,” He whispers opening his eyes. I laugh weakly and climb out of bed. I see a random shirt lying on the floor and pick it up, and then realizing it’s not mine, but his, I put it down on the floor again. The same black dress from last night catches my eye and I grab it off the floor.
“Did we have sex last night?” I ask him, he yawns siting up in bed as I slip the dress over my head.
“No, as much as I wanted to take advantage of you, I couldn’t,” he stands up from bed, shirtless, he stood in just boxes that hung low on his hips, making his V-line visible.
“Here,” he says reaching in the drawer and tossing me a black shirt. I shake my head and lay it on the bed.
“I can’t wear that, thank you though,” I smile politely and zip up the back of my dress.
“Why?” He asks. I can already see his morning side is over; he’s built up walls again. I sigh to myself and continue.
“I can’t mix business and pleasure,” I say and he nods, walking out of the room without another word. I follow behind him and realize the whole flat has dirt brown walls, white accents here and there, the grey carpet contrasting well. He’s not overly rich, but he has a lot of money. It’s obvious by the type of car he drives, and the furniture in his house.
“Are you hungry?” He asks
“I am, but I need to go home,” I say
“No.” he demands, looking at me with cold eyes, “Sit. Here take some of this; it will help the headache that you’ll probably be getting soon. You were wasted last night,” he shakes his head furrowing his eyebrows together. He thinks that was wasted? He should’ve seen me on my 18th birthday three months ago.
“You haven’t seen me wasted,” I mumble under my breath and take the pills dry. I sit down at the table, only because I didn’t want to cause a problem, and then wait as he does whatever he’s doing.
“Do you want coffee?” He asks in a cold tone.
“No, I don’t like coffee,” I say quietly and he sighs.
“Tea?” He asks
“No thank you,” I reply simply, looking around the kitchen.
