Stuck with a Punk ✔

No. 66.: Cuddling

"Hmmm..." Annabelle mumbles curled up on the side and with her cheek pressed against my chest.

I want to ask her what is it, but just thinking about talking right now tires me even more. I'm in that wonderful state of slowly dozing off because I'm warm, I'm comfortable, I'm here with her, and yes, I could say that I'm pretty happy at the moment.

She shifts in her place and further relaxes into my arms, then mumbles in such an exhausted manner that she could've been talking in her sleep: "You're such a good hugger... You know that?"

Well, that for sure wakes me up. Women have been quite happy with my performance, but you know, with a different kind of performance than the one Annabelle's hinting on at the moment.

"I've been called many things, but... never a good hugger." I've been called a douchebag amongst others.

"Not even by Patty?"

I think for a moment and browse through the memories. The days we've spent at the beach, when we went camping, when we made the entire school uncomfortable with our fights and after-fight make-out sessions, or when we had a quiet night in watching movies, and when we (tried) to study together... She never said I'm a good hugger. She had nicknames for me and by whichever she called me I knew what mood she was in. Pretty functional, if you ask me.

"Nope. She had other nicknames for me, though."

Annabelle's tone considerably drops, and for a moment I get concerned that somehow I fucked this whole thing up. I don't know how I could have done it, but women are just mad at me all the time. "Why am I expecting very insulting ones?"

I can see why she's expecting something of that sort, and it's not a surprise. Even when I think back on Patty and myself, to think of the cheesy nicknames, it almost seems unbelievable, as if we were faking the perfect power couple dynamic. Actually all that passed between us was very much true. But it's needless to say why one, like Annabelle, can only imagine us as absolutely toxic, given how intense the interaction between us can get. That, of course, includes various threats, insults, sometimes even assaults. In short, just not very healthy.

"That may surprise you. I guess some of them can be understood as an insult, but the way she said it was-" I can't really say hot, can I? I'm getting paranoid about what I say, and this sounds like a very good trigger to piss her off. Well, silence can speak on its own. I suppose it does the job. "Her favourites were Tootie and Playboy."

Annabelle giggles pretty loudly for a tired, yet a happy woman. "I get the Playboy, but she called you Tootie? I'd expect something like Natey."

"I would cringe if I weren't as lazy as I am." She giggles to that as well, but more lively this time, while I'm struggling to even stay awake and respond to her. "I'd rather be called Tootie than Natey."

"But why! Natey sounds cute! Are you going to say Tootie is not cute? It's just as cringy."

"It's better than Natey."

For someone that is not familiar with the background, they are both roughly on the same level. For the nickname Gummy, which I am not going to share with her because it's horrific and I wanted to kill Patty whenever she called me that, even I have to think hard about the story. I can hardly remember why she started with it, and I believe it's a repressed memory because the nickname was a fucking Gummy.

"Tootie came from a joke, actually. It was originally toothie because according to her I have a most dashimg boyish smile. Eventually it turnedd into Tootie and it just became our thing."

"Aw, your story behind Tootie is a really cute one. Did you have a nickname for her?"

"I called her Babe."