A Prose With No Direction

placemats and handcuffs

For the past two weeks, I've been constantly writing nonstop, waking up to the sun's steamy glare as legs walk themselves to the desk with piles and piles of well-written looseleaf and crumpled up lined paper. Ass, every morning, sits down on the red, spinning, five-wheel chair as fingertips caress the body of my beloved Paper Mate gel pen, its tip kissing its looseleaf lover good morning. 

But due to this constant overworking and overthinking—no, over-imagining—of my brain, the Rubik's cube-like, cement block keeps showing up on my paper. It's been there for days now just like it's been days since pen and paper have made out. 

And I haven't bothered to remove it.

Instead, I have been sitting on my couch all day long with her by my side. Ocean Eyes came by a few hours ago to drop off some home cooked meals from his mom before leaving to go to school. He's coming by later to talk, he said, and work on a few things as we keep each other's company.

I've downloaded an app on your phone, Clara, she says, the glare of the screen making her face pale in my dimmed house. I heard it's good.

I look at her. Stop downloading stupid games on my phone, I reply. If you want, I'll get you your own.

She smirks. You know all too well that's not possible.

I purse me lips, picking up the remote to scroll through Netflix. What app is it? I ask.

She pushes the pillow off her lap onto the floor, her knees crawling towards my side of the couch. She pushes the screen up close to my face, its light blinding my dark eyes.

She bears a wide smile on her countenance. Webtoons. 

I roll my eyes. Please, don't get into that, I tell her. It's a waste of time, money, and a social life.

What do you know about having a social life, she scoffs. It doesn't really matter if I have any of those, does it?

Whatever, I reply, clicking on a romantic comedy show I somehow have the interest to watch. Just don't buy any of those coins. We're on a budget.

A budget that's not needed, she says. We have more than enough money. Besides, how did you know that this app had coins?

She eyes me weirdly. 

I had the app once, I answer. Just do what you want. I don't really care anymore.

Is that so?

As the OST of the drama begins playing, eyes glance at eyes as black as mine. What is that supposed to mean?

You said you'd care.

But not for something as trivial as this.

She just chuckles, shrugging and returning back to her side of the couch. 

What are you watching anyway?

Crash Landing on You.

A drama?

I nod.

Korean?

I nod again.

What genre?

I scoff. Don't laugh.

She smirks at me. Why would I?

Romantic comedy, I say.