Him ; Bastille

Texts ; 7

I got to sleep last night pretty well. I think it's because I had some biscuits and shit. It's not not sleeping on a empty stomach or worrying about not waking up to no job — not to mention that Kitty brought me this sugary cinnamon donut...thing last night.

I look up at the mouldy ceiling and sigh. I must've slept through the para-fucking-normal alarm, I never not wake up to silence...it doesn't feel right. That's when my phone on my Bessie time continues to chime away, what does Syd want now?

I click on the notification only to discover it isn't Syd...it's Kitty.

   — Kitty; Hey Dan, are you awake?
   — Kitty; You might not be awake and that's fine
   — Kitty; I'm going to have a shower.
   — Kitty; Just got out of the shower, you awake?
   — Kitty; I'll get you some breakfast for on the way
   — Kitty; You're a black coffee type of guy right?
   — Kitty; I mean I brought you black coffee
   — Kitty; Dan I'm nearly at your apartment building.
   — Kitty; WAKE UP
   — Kitty; RISE AND SHINE
   — Kitty; Do you want this job or not?
   — Kitty; Yes or no question.
   — Kitty; IT'S NOT LIKE YOUR THAT *SO* POPULAR THAT YOU PHYSICALLY CAN'T TEXT BACK 'OH HI KIT — I'M ASLEEP'
   — Kitty; Fuck this I'm going to wake you up.
   — Kitty; What apartment floor do you live on so I can lob a rock through your FUCKING WINDOW?!
   — Kitty; I AM LATE MYSELF NOW.
   — Kitty; My dad is gonna kill us both
   — Kitty; I called dad up and said that you're talking to your parents on the phone and need me as a witness for some reason
   — Kitty; EVERYONE IN THIS AREA SCARES ME.
   — Kitty; How can you live here?
   — Kitty; THAT'S IT I'M COMING IN
   — Kitty; Your post box said you live on the second to last floor...see YOU in a MINUTE

My eyes widen as I more or less fall out of bed and scurry to my temp wardrobe — the left corner of my bedrooms floor. I pick up new everything and put it on after drowning myself in deodorant. Before I can even think about brushing my teeth Kitty bags really hard on the door. "Shit...shit..." I run into my living room. My place is a typical lads pad. There's stuff everywhere...in general it's pretty grim.

I try moving a few things but in all honesty it makes the place look worse. No way is a classy girl like Kitty Holland coming in my fucking bachelor pad or whatever they call it — it's probably called something like 'a lonely depressed nearly man's disgusting apartment'. I haven't got a clue to be honest.

"Dan!" I hear her almost scream as I run to the door and throw it effortlessly open. It shocks Kitty, she probably thought I wasn't going to answer it. "What have you been doing?!" She loudly hisses as I point backwards, it's not like she can see my bed for proof.

"I...had my first good nights sleep in ages. Sorry about that." I feel the need to apologise all the time. Even though I really shouldn't. With that Kitty makes a light 'oh' sound before she passes me a plastic coffee cup and a small brown paper bag which smells of something familiar. "Cheers" I happily say as I take a sip of coffee whilst I awkwardly try to lock the door. I would ask Kitty to help but she is too busy admiring the blood stained hall, "we're two very different type of people..." she laughs pointing to the graffiti.

"I mean my parents are well to do people — I just can't...live off of them for the rest of my life." With that Kitty stops dead in my tracks and turns towards me slightly. "Are you saying that I live off of my parents?" She seems offended. I mean she has every right to be, I just presumed that's where her income comes from...New York is fucking expensive.

"Oh my god..." my voice trails off as I feel guilty. "I didn't mean that you are or anything I was just implying that I-myself can figure out my own financial-" Kitty surprisingly cuts me off with a smile as she nods her head. "I know what you mean. And...living independently sounds scary, but I respect you and that's the truth. I could never live on my own independently." Kitty has a slick tongue, not only is she a fast speaker but she also has a very detailed opinion about people. She won't hesitate to say what's on her mind. Although she is sweet in nature I can't expect her to say things that she doesn't like about people aloud, which is understandable.

"Anyway, drink and eat up. We've got to be through the doors by half ten the latest" I nod my head and drink some of the coffee as well as taking a large bite of the sausage roll.

Kitty — who was like a total stranger to me yesterday — she clearly knows what I like. I guess maybe I'm predictable? Plain and boring. Although when I go Nando's, back home of course, I get the spiciest thing there. Not that I'll admit to anyone...like ever. Spicy food never upsets my stomach or whatever...I'm pretty weird like that when it comes to food.

Either way she knows me more than she'll care to admit. Maybe...I'm her secret...awful...crush? I know that's me dreaming or whatever but it could be a possibility. Why else is she still hanging out with me after I accused her of taking pity? Normally girls like that run off into the dead of night, but it's like Kitty is trying to prove herself that she isn't. I mean she's giving me free food and her father gave me a job...maybe she does like me?

Or maybe I need to stop overthinking things.