Alone on the Isle

Part 3- Levi

Uh, right... Who's this guy again? I roll out of bed, not looking away from the stranger next to me. I look around, thinking well this is pathetic. Whose home is this? Mine. I brought him here. Who is is he? I run my hand through my hair. He was cute, I guess, with curly blond hair and a young face. But how late in the day was it? Was I late for work?

As I began to walk toward my bathroom, I grabbed at my temples, my hangover inhibiting my ability to think. Who is this guy, and how do I kick him out? I couldn't just go up to him and be like, 'hey dude, I'm sure last night was great, although I don't remember anything, but you gotta go.' I stood under the water in my shower for a moment, slowly reviving my brain.

Sleeping Beauty began to stir as I left my bathroom, pulling on a plain white T-shirt along with my boxer briefs. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. He looked at me questioningly, and then took a moment to look around the room.

"Well, shit," he said bluntly. "I clearly drank more than I meant to." He looked at me apologetically. "Would you mind telling me where I am?"

"8th Street, Washington D.C."

"Thank you." He continued to rub his eyes, and I gauged that his hangover was as bad as mine. He swung his legs out of the bed and looked around for his clothes... which were nowhere to be found.

I chuckled as I saw a grey Henley that I'm pretty sure was too small to be mine. From the looks of it, we were lucky to have made it into my apartment before we started undressing. I picked it up an threw it at him. He blanched. "Oh, God, no," he muttered.

"Unfortunately, yeah," I replied. A nagging voice in the back of my head was telling me, Levi you idiot, get his number! GET HIS NUMBER! But I responded to the voice as I also did, shoving it down until it was just a grumpy whisper, you will always be alone you grump. He was funny too. I finished buttoning my shirt and began the hunt for a tie.

As I finished getting dressed, the stranger finished locating his clothes and was pulling on his shoes. "Honestly, I don't know who you are, or what happened last night, but I'm sure it was great. I have to get to work though, and to keep this as least awkward as possible, would you mind telling me where the door is?"

"Oh! Yeah, it's there," I answered gesturing at the door.

"Thanks," he said, and that was the last I ever heard of him. I sat on the foot of my bed for a moment, rubbing my eyes. I needed to do something about this. But, when you work odd hours and have to keep secrets from those you love, it's hard to keep a boyfriend. I hadn't had an actually boyfriend since... high school. I shook my head at how pathetic that was. I had been one of the only gay guys at West Point, though, and I had been so busy working since I got out that I hadn't had time to form a relationship.

Oh well. Nothing could be done about it right now. I was training my ass off right now. I wanted to get sent on one of those special missions out of country. Stuff like neutralizing terrorist threats and other things. Things that kept your mind off of the loneliness. It wasn't that I didn't do anything to help myself, but I had tried dating and it hadn't worked. My last boyfriend's words had stuck with me, and they were what haunted me, poisoning my relationships with self-doubt:

"You know me better than I do, but I don't know you at all. How can I fully love someone I don't fully know?"

How could he? It was a fair point, no matter how badly it hurt to hear. I could never share myself because of my job, and I couldn't live with someone who couldn't fully love me. And truthfully, it was easier to wake up from a one-night stand I didn't remember than to wake up next to a man I knew everything about. The only bad thing about that is that means there isn't always someone there to help. To help with depression, frustration, or even the fucking laundry. I didn't like being alone, but it was better than being alone with someone you know everything about, even if they don't know you.

I grabbed a coffee cup and my antidepressants as I ran a hand through my dark hair and stepped out of my apartment, locking the door behind me.

What difference did it make? I was always going to be like this, or at least until I can't work anymore. Always keeping secrets, distancing myself from those I care about. Besides, how interesting could a boyfriend be when there are terrorists? I chuckled as I popped my medication into my mouth. I was being much to philosophical considering the time of day. What, oh what, could the office possibly hold for me today?

•••••

Hello, readers!

Did I promise this chapter was going to be better? Probably. Was it? Probably not. But hey, I'd love to hear any opinions. But at least there's no Russian! Good old all-American Levi. None of that foreign mad-scientist language for him.

Again, I have no clue who the picture is, but viola, your Levi character model.

Thanks, and have a great day!
S. L. Comer