I was lying on Richard, flat-out starfishing, our bare stomachs touching as I was staring at the wall on the other side of the room and he was deep into the explore page of Instagram at this point. I looked up to his face and both his chins and it took him a few seconds before he unstuck his eyes from his phone and looked at me. Neither of our faces was showing any emotion until he said: ''What?'' and his face lit up in a smile. I didn't answer, I just turned my head and laid it back down on his chest, looking at the wall again. He went back to scrolling and nothing changed and no one moved for a while.
I was just about to fall asleep peacefully when he decided to groan and stretch, jerking me awake and I thought about killing him for a second before I remembered how hot he looked. Me, on the other hand, I was not particularly sexy that morning, my hair was everywhere, I had no top on, and my knickers were a little tight because these old ones were the last clean pair I had with me. I don't remember ever having eyes so heavy and sticky and my breath, I am not even going to mention it.
I glared at Richard for waking me. He just smiled and said: ''Good morning, darling.''
He came after me, embracing me in a bear hug that landed both of us another fifteen minutes of cuddling in bed, just enough to get me almost to sleep, then he woke me up again. But this time, a lot nicer: he stroked my cheek and kissed it before whispering into my ear. It was great, I didn't want to move, ever, just keep lying there with him whispering into my ear, but he moved, slowly he rose out of the bed.
''I am offended,'' I told him.
''Why, because I have to go to work?''
''Yes.''
He smiled widely and gave me a kiss before standing up and searching for a suitable outfit to wear to work. ''Brush your teeth,'' he told me, before disappearing from my sight. ''Blow off work,'' I yelled after him.
I lay on my back and looked at the ceiling. It was ridiculously early. I didn't need to get up for two more hours. Nevertheless, I decided to make Richard some breakfast, just as a thank you for hosting me at his place for, may I say it, many a wild night.
I took some bread from the cupboard and fished a few eggs out of the fridge, then scrambled them in a pan and put them on two plates, all before Richard came out of the bathroom. He smelt the deliciousness through the door apparently, as he walked into the kitchen right when I placed the food on the table.
He sat down and thanked me. ''Why did you use these plates?'' he asked and I got nervous.
''Shouldn't I? Are they like fancy or something?''
He shrugged and started eating. ''No, I'd just rather eat the eggs off of you.'' He looked at me with a grin on his face and eggs stuffed in his mouth. Before I sat on the chair next to his, I playfully punched him on his shoulder. I guess he liked it because he almost choked on his food laughing so hard.
After breakfast, he had to go, sadly, and I walked him to the front door. ''Last chance to stay at home and snuggle with me,'' I tried to tempt him.
He kissed me softly, with a lot of feeling and I never wanted him to stop, but he pulled away. ''But I need to make money so I can spoil you,'' he joked.
I rolled my eyes and kissed him again. ''Then you better not be late.''
He smiled and gave me a final kiss before taking off, leaving me in the hall, watching his sweet butt walk away. God, that man is fine!
I went back inside and decided to get to packing because I had to go home sometime and while I was throwing everything that looked like my clothes into my backpack, I knocked over Richard's chair, where he let rest a pair of his trousers. As I was picking them up, I noticed a piece of paper peeking out of one of the pockets. I was feeling curious, so I pulled it out and read the text:
Friday, June 29th: working 3 pm – late night, probably
I stared at the paper for a few moments. Did he forget he worked later today? Probably. Did I come to that conclusion? Absolutely not. My mind immediately assumed the worst. He is cheating on me. I was hurt, seriously hurt, and I wanted to scream. It took a few tears for me to realize that maybe I was overreacting, that I was overthinking the situation. I decided to ask him. I called his cellphone.
A familiar melody, but not familiar enough to be my own, started playing in the kitchen. He forgot his phone on the table. I ended the call and took a look at his phone.
I didn't want to be a petty, or jealous girlfriend, but I couldn't help the urge to look through his messages, in case he talked to any girls I didn't know about.
I figured out his password long ago and he knew that, but didn't care enough to change it. Within seconds, I was in his message folder. I scrolled all the way down, inspected every suspicious nickname for dirty texts, but found nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Delighted, I wiped away my tears and locked his phone. I sat by the table for a few more seconds, contemplating my next move. I decided to go after him, follow his usual route to work and give him his phone, and maybe spend the next two hours outside with him, seeing as how the sun shone very brightly that day, which was an incredibly rare occurrence in London.
I pulled on some clothes, high waisted shorts and a yellow t-shirt, completed with an oversized hoodie that I stole from Richard's wardrobe. I took my keys and phone and shoved them in my backpack so that I had everything I needed with me. I left the flat and walked down the road, where Richard had walked me many times on his, or my for that matter, way to work and walked through some crossroads before I saw, with the corner of my eye, a figure that looked a lot like my boyfriend.
In the flower shop on the other side of the road, there was Richard, buying a bouquet of flowers. Upon further inspection, I realized the flowers he picked were my favourites: camellias. He paid the salesman and turned around, and walked in the opposite way of his flat.
My heart sunk, it sunk deep. I couldn't sense the sun any more, the heat became unbearable, I tore his hoodie off of me and threw it on the ground. I jumped on it several times before I attracted weird looks, picked it up and stuffed it into my backpack. I went back to the flat and trashed his wardrobe before sitting in the mess of his clothes, crying my eyes out.
Suddenly, I heard a key in the lock and stood up. I wiped my tears away because I had no idea who would come through the door.
To my big, and pleasant surprise, it was Richard. In his hands, a bouquet of camellias and a bottle of champagne. Upon entering, his first words were: ''I'm dumb. It's Friday, right? I'm working in the afternoon today.''
I stood still, shocked and slightly embarrassed. He saw my tear-stained face and red eyes. ''What's wrong?'' he said, worried.
''Oh, it's nothing,'' I suddenly smiled, ''I just couldn't find my favourite shirt.''
He seemed a bit baffled at how sad I was over a shirt, but let it go and smiled. ''You're wearing it, silly.'' He laughed at me gently and placed a kiss on my forehead. I moved my head upwards so that he could access my lips. The kiss was long and intense and I could feel how surprised he was, but also how much he liked it.
When we pulled away, he handed me the flowers. ''This is for you, my dearest.''
I was smitten beyond words. I thanked him, to which he replied with the biggest smile I had ever seen on a person.
He lifted the champagne to the height of his face. ''Wanna make some mimosas?''
I smelt the flowers and smiled. ''Do you even have to ask?''
