Stuck with a Punk ✔

No. 29.: Eating his breakfast

I rise from my bed the next morning like a zombie from the grave. I grab for the pillows, sheets and duvets like my limbs are failing me due to being still for so long. I was asleep so deeply I can't remember if my conversation with Annabelle yesterday actually happened or not. If it even was meant to be yesterday. It's asleep that leaves one requiring another power nap just to piece oneself back together. 

With a great deal of trouble, I get myself out of bed. I believe the most accurate description of crawling out would be the scene from Wolf of Wall Street when Jordan consumes some drugs that come into effect much later and then tries to get to the car. 

When I look at the clock on my nightstand I nearly have a heart attack. It's 11 AM. I've never slept that long since I was in college and I am also supposed to take care of a kid who has probably perished already. 

Wearing only my underwear, I leave the bedroom. Hey, it's my apartment and what's the point if I can't walk around in underwear? 

With my hand in my hair as I try to wake myself up, I get to the kitchen without opening my eyes. Why is it so light in here? 

There's something different about the apartment, though. The moment I take a step out of the bedroom I am swarmed over by the smell of an omelette and coffee and I don't remember myself cooking in the middle of the night. I let myself be led by the delicious smell and only when I'm in the kitchen, I open my eyes. 

Behind the counter, I see Annabelle with a spatula in her hand and Devon sitting in his chair. At first, I am thrown back, did I have sex with her and not remember it? 

She turns around, probably because she feels my presence and when she does, she has a big grin on her face. However, when she sees me, she quickly looks the other way and blushes dark red "Hey, Nat- Oh, God!"

I guess we did talk yesterday.

I look down at myself, first panicking that maybe I'm completely naked. My memory serves me right, I did leave underwear on. 

"What?" I ask her, finding it almost a little cute she's so embarrassed about it. I definitely didn't get that kind of impressions when she jumped me on that date. 

She peeks up from her hand and quickly closes her eyes again "Would you put some clothes on?!" 

I roll my eyes, remembering how hard I was when she was kissing me like a wildcat. I stroll back to the bedroom and say loudly "Like it's the first time you see a guy shirtless." 

I expect her to say something more, something snarky or even throw something at me. Women in my life tend to have quite a temper. But she does no such thing. SHe just keeps on cooking or frying or whatever she's doing with the eggs on that stove. 

Once I'm alone behind the four walls of my bedroom and I open the closet, I pick random clothes out. I take out the dark grey sweatpants and a white shirt with long sleeves that have a black line down the length of them. It may be sunny but it's still a little chilly. If I'll feel like it, I'll change later. 

I get back to the kitchen and see Annabelle still isn't feeling better from the blush she experienced earlier. 

"Are you decent?" She asks me and tries to keep her eyes away from me at all stakes. 

I chuckle and walk behind the counter to pour myself a cup of coffee. Hopefully, she won't take this one away from me too. "Yeah, don't worry."

That's when she finally looks at me. She probably thinks I don't notice things like that but I see it quite well. I see it very well how she eyes me from top to bottom. But really, now you do it, Annabelle? Now?!