Pain Master - phan

8. ChinWag

(Rhoe and Pete Lester on the picture above, they have 15 years age gap)

(VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE AND I'LL UPDATE SOONER AM BEGGIN)
Word count: 4262

****Dan's Point Of View*******

Saturday, reluctantly, I woke up. I blink, close my eyes, and blink again. Streaks of sunlight on the window  blinds my sight. I was early before the alarm so I shut it on advance. I sit and stand up, toss off the bed, and rub my own knuckles onto my eyes while I stretch my arms and yawn. I watch my legs dangled onto the carpeted floor only to go outside my room.

I always knew that I was a burden in this apartment. Timothee could've gotten a better roommate than me. I've known that leaving is a better option, but I didn't know where or who to go.

I was wearing an Ariana Grande lilac sweater and a flesh-colored waist, lace panties just to make my hips look bigger.

First observation of the freshness of the air as I rose from a very heavy slumber. The ground is as lumpy as a bed of earth and rocks. My clothes feel as damp. I half wonder if I was still dreaming.

I'm awake, perhaps more fully awake than I've ever been.

I felt the tension. I've been working at the Lester's for 3 days, overall they've said that I was doing excellent . I wanted to scream about what was going to happen...but I had to wait. Whatever distraction I feel kept fluttering back. I ignored it and went to the kitchen.  I looked up into the cabinet for anything to spare for a daybreak.

I decided to grab two eggs, bananas, coffees and the rest.  I gently prepared the appliances for cooking and starting my mission.

But before cooking, I grabbed my iPhone on the counter that I left on there yesterday and turning it on to search for some good Ariana Grande music.... What a basic faggot. Then suddenly my phone started playing 'Dangerous Woman' while I am synchronizing the voice. 

I swayed my body into a more seductive sexy move just to get along with the tune of the song. Mouthing the lyrics while preparing for the utensils until my hearing sense heard Tim's door creaked open and a yawn from him.

I moved my head to look at him, but he started talking first "Watcha doing Daniel?" Timothee said metaphorically while coming near me with only wearing his fish stickered boxer. I still went back to business.

"Well, cooking you shit" When the fresh cooked meals were done, I then placed the meal on both of our separate plates. Could there be anything finer than bed & breakfast in Provence? Warm Baguette, homemade blueberry jams and fine coffee. The air smells like every seaside daydream.

Every morning the only wake-up call is a chorus of birds that flit between the summer-clad trees outside. Tim attacked me with a warm hug, then pulling out quickly. We both sat down and began attacking our meal.

It wasn't weird for us to be so affection since we've known each other for so long.

"I thought you were going to have a personal chat with Phil? It's been 3 days and I haven't heard any," Tim's voice with complains.

"Yeah, but I don't know what to say." I stopped for a second and then continued "Maybe I should text him? Or maybe he's busy. I don't really know. CEOs are always busy I guess." I lifted my right eyebrow.

"Then go ahead. Give it a shot!" Timothee clapped. Quick seconds, we finish our last swallow. He stands up and placed our empty plates on the sink, washing his hands sanitizingly.