Living With Him

Forty-eight: Stabbing Cherries

Forty-eight: Stabbing Cherries

Can a guy define what 'I won't take long' means in dude language?

Because seriously, he's been gone for almost six hours and I think that no longer qualifies as 'won't take long' to me. I also think that a lot of people would agree to that. Unless you're a sloth or a leech, or something.

Ugh! I just remembered that one dream I had the other night where this dude had a leech on his neck, and then he threw it up high in the air and soon as I knew it was about to fall on me, I willed myself to wake up, and damn did I jump up and about the room.

Total cringe worthy. I'm so glad I didn't look at that part in one of the GoT episodes where Baratheon's son was...uck! I wonder what happened to him though.

To those who read the book, you're more than welcome to spoil it for me. But just what happened to him, okay? Don't spoil the whole deal for me.

So where was I? Oh right, the won't take too long thing.

He's not even texting me.

Someone's worried.

"No I'm not."

Then why are you holding your phone and looking at it as if you're waiting for someone to text you?

"What? I'm n—" I immediately threw my phone away as soon as I realized that I was indeed holding it.

Dagnnabit! I marched to the desk and grabbed my laptop before settling on the bed.

There's only one way for me to pass the time aside from eating and sleeping, and that's Netflix. It's about time I finish the damn agony that Clay has caused me.

It's time for episode eleven.

I don't know why, or maybe I was just engrossed in sobbing my eyes out that I didn't notice him walk in my room, cuss, and throw his arms around me like I was about to fall apart.

"Shit! Fuck! Baby, are you okay?" Mr. Northman rubbed my back and consoled me and I wondered why? "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I knew I shouldn't have left you alone!"

"What are you talking about?" I sniffled and he cupped my face before beckoning me to say what I just said one more time, and so I did.

"You're crying," he said his obvious observation gently as if his voice might shatter me. "I heard you crying as soon as I walked in, so I rushed in here. What happened baby? Who did this to you?"

I shook my head to signal him that it's nothing, but as soon as I sighed the name 'Clay', all hell almost broke lose.

"Who the fuck is this Clay?!" he bellowed as he fished his phone out of his pocket and slammed his hand on the switch to illuminate the room.

I blinked a few times and rubbed my palm against my cheek, trying to assess why he's this way. I'm still a bit dizzy from bawling because of that damn episode.

"Hello. Yes. Why the fuck isn't anyone guarding the house?! Someone explain to me why..."

My eyes flashed open with realization as soon as I heard him ask—or shout—at whoever he's asking why no one's guarding the house. The overreacting tower just thought someone named Clay broke in and did something!

"Uhm hello," I immediately snatched his phone from him which is a miracle how I reached that high, let's talk about that later. "Yes, sorry, don't mind Mr. Northman, it's all a misunderstanding, Netflix, if you know what I mean." I sniffled and the relieved chuckle from the other line made me roll my eyes before hanging up.