Bad Boy and the Badass

(10) IT'S NOT ALL ABOUT THAT CASH

I wake up shivering, no warm body to cling to. London has disappeared, and there's no light streaming through the windows, telling me it's still night time. I attempt to go back to sleep but fail miserably and instead listen for five minutes to the sound of Aunt Rosalie snoring like a dump truck from the other room. I sigh and throw my leg out of the satin-lined bed. Goodbye cloud mattress.

Grabbing my phone I turn on the flash light off the adjacent nightstand where I left it last night. The room is illuminated with the blinding white light and I have to blink for a minute before my eyes adjust. I tip-toe out the door and hear a noise. An ambient noise like a video, or a TV. I wander into the living room and see London splayed out on the leather sofa, eyes bloodshot and clearly overdue for a wink of sleep.

"Rose wake you up too?" London whisper asks, still staring blankly at the TV. Even from in on here I can hear Rosalie snoring crystal clear, like a construction zone through a bullhorn.

"I actually woke up cause I had no heat source to keep me warm."

"Oh, sorry. I just never can sleep when that she devil is over and snoring louder than an airplane engine," He croaks.

"Well I can't sleep when I'm freezing my ass off. So let's go to CVS or Walgreens real quick," I compromise.

"What for?"

"Get you some earplugs, pretty sure I've seen some of the cheap ones in CVS at some point."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, grab a small coffee and let's go, you're the driver." I walk toward him and tug on his hand for him to get up. He lets out a deep exhale before slowly standing up and walking toward his room, probably to grab the keys to his car. I walk to the garage and he returns a minute later with, I guessed it, the keys. We hop in and speed off the estate, arriving at CVS a few minutes later. When we enter the building I inhale the scent of clean, always a pleasure-filled smell. I walk up and down the aisles randomly picking up shit I don't need. I suppose London took a different aisle cause I here him in the aisle next to me, also rummaging through random shit.

Well if we're not actually looking for what we need... I slip over to the makeup wall and take in the rows and rows of pretty-people chemicals. I wish I was pretty enough for this, but sadly you can't fix ugly. I quickly refocus and find the miscellaneous aisle and pick up a pair of the small neon earplugs. I grab a pair and wander off to find London.

I swear to God if he's not in the aisles I will beat his ass. So far I've walked up and down each aisle and no sign of him anywhere, this is the last aisle, and I haven't heard any shuffling feet. I slowly turn the corner and see that no one is there. I growl and stomp back up the the front and look side to side, finally spotting London next to the registration counter, licking a Push-Pop like a 4-year old. He looks up at me and sees I'm pissed and lowers the Push-Pop as I stomp over to him.

"Are you serious? I looked everywhere for you and the entire time you were schmoozing over a palm-denting creamsicle?" I wave my arms to get the point across, 80% sure I have steam coming out of my ears. Instead of saying any thing he lifts his other hand that was resting by his side and hold out another Push-Pop. I almost explode but then look at his sweet, innocent face, and let out an exasperated sigh. "Maybe I'm just sleep deprived." I laugh, taking the popsicle, London bounces off the freezer and leaves a ten dollar bill on the counter. The lady working the night shift smiles at us as we casually stroll out, two teenagers eating Push-Pops at 3am, an odd thing to smile at if you ask me.

We ride back in silence, park the car in silence, enter the house in silence, and hop back in bed, you guessed it- in silence. All while sucking on Push-Pops and trying to quietly open the loudest plastic package known to man. London finally rips it open and stuffs the tiny wads into his ears and flops back into the bed, pulling me toward his side. I gladly scoot toward the warmth and nuzzle into his side. It's like a radiator has possessed this human vessel. Lucky bastard. I throw an arm over his torso and feel his long breaths on my hair, warm and comforting. I'm about to fall asleep when I hear a door slam, I immediately jerk up, senses on alert. I reach for my phone and turn in the flashlight. The door's closed but I hear heavy boots stalking down the large hallway. London stirs but he's so tired that he doesn't actually wake up. So instead I quiver in place, hoping the intruder won't be opening every door. The footsteps draw closer and I start to panic, I shake London awake and he slowly opens his eyes and takes out an earplug.