"The lust for comfort murders the passions of the soul."
— kahlil gibranTHREE WHOLE MONTHS had passed since Clover's whole ordeal with Weston Knight and his band of scary looking boys, and she was frustrated; sexually frustrated.
She had just gotten back from work, exhausted and moody, and was ready to go to bed. Except Clover couldn't stay tired due to the ache deep within her gut. The girl couldn't get the man she met months ago out of her head. It was as if he were there, looking over her with his dark eyes.
"Ugh!" Clover yelled out as soon as she arrived at her apartment. She threw her knock-off Micheal Kors bag onto the ground and kicked off her sneakers. Her shoes made a small scruff mark on the wall when they hit them, adding to the numerous flaws of her place.
Her hands immediately went straight to her hair, tugging at the perfected bun and undoing it. Clover shook her head, allowing her dark waves to fall. She had instant relief and sighed. The next thing to come off was the itchy t-shirt with big bolded words across the breast pocket spelling "the Big Cup" and her name. The girl was now left in her slim-fit khaki pants that would later be traded in for a pair of Nike sweatpants.
A yawn escaped Clover's mouth as she made her way to the kitchen. Her apartment was small and plain; minimum furnishings decorated the place as well as little details. The girl had just recently moved in about a year ago, and hadn't had the desire to spruce the place up. For now, the place she called home was a small boxy structure that wasn't appealing to the eye.
Currently, it was roughly eight-thirty in the evening and as if on cue, her stomach growled in hunger. Clover went over to the beat up refrigerator and grabbed an old pizza box. She took out a fairly large piece of pepperoni pizza and instantly shoved it between her plump lips.
"Mmm..." Nothing like cold pizza, Clover thought to herself as she then also took out a bottle of beer and cracked it open.
Once the young woman was set off with her food and drink, she pulled out her phone and flopped onto her sofa. Her body was met with cushions that allowed her to into sink into comfort. Clover grinned slightly and switched on the television. Taking a sip from the bottle of Budlight, she contemplated on whether turning on some erotic movie or calling up a boy toy to come release the building up tension in her core.
Stefano's name instantly popped up in her head for a quick moment before being dismissed once Clover remembered he was out of the country for business. She cursed at the man's busy life.
I could call up Tony. . . she thought, an image of a Abercrombie-model looking blonde college boy coming to mind. Oh wait, he's gay.
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Casual Affairs
RomanceParties and late night drunken states meant everything when it came to Clover Paige; especially if it meant leaving her wild thoughts behind and losing herself in a bottle of Jack Daniels. Her name is just an illusion, you would think anyone named C...