Sentimental crap [Dreamnotfound]

CAUTIOUS

I overslept.

I realized it as soon as I opened my eyes. My bedroom window faced east and I used to get up before the sun hit my face. Of course, since I got my time off my last job, I didn't have to wake up at dawn to get to my office by eight. It was too late after all.

"Shit. Shit. Shit." I muttered, digging myself out of the sheet. Of course, I entwined my legs and fell to the floor, "Fuck! Darryl! Why didn't you wake me up?!"

Only after a while, I realized why such well-known words did not answer me. After all, Darryl went to a concert in Sheffield.

When I looked at my watch it turned out it was already after nine. I remembered Clay was due at ten, and he didn't seem like someone who used to be late. I didn't have much time. Fortunately, I was packed from the previous day. I jumped in the shower; I hadn't even had time to dry my hair properly when I heard the doorbell. I just managed to wear what I chose for the road - gray sweatpants and a blue short-sleeved T-shirt. It didn't matter that I had a bird's nest on my head and probably dark circles under my eyes from lack of sleep, and I was pale as usual. What it mattered to the guy I was going to keep at bay.

"Come upstairs, I'll be ready in a moment," I said on the intercom and opened the door for him, then ran to the kitchen to have at least a coffee before leaving. Even though I hated coffee, I needed that caffeine shot.

This time I didn't hear his footsteps in the living room. He surprised me by appearing right behind me as I finished making my coffee in the coffee machine.

"You aren't ready," he stated harshly instead of greeting.

The words sounded so close to my ear that I jumped and pulled away reflexively. The hand in which I was holding the cup trembled until I had to put it on the counter. If it hadn't been for a loud thud, it would have even been intended.

"I'll be in a moment", I repeated, then I turned to him, "Do you want some coffee?"

Behind me, he reached for the cup, and I forced her to stay where I was. He looked just as unofficial as last time. He was wearing jeans again - this time navy blue, tight - and black T-shirt, and the same hoodie. Really, how was he not cold? After all, it was five degrees below zero outside.

"I hate coffee. Its smell makes me feel sick," he said after he took a sip. On the one hand, I agree with him. On the other hand, I shouted from inside: So why did you just drink it?!

I could see from his movements that he wanted to step back, but he stopped himself at the last moment. Instead, he reached a hand through my hair. I held my breath, clenching my jaw so as not to tear myself away completely automatically. I've learned to control my reflexes after a long time.

"Your hair is wet," he just said, "Dry it before we go. It's cold outside."

As he pulled away, I let out the air I was holding back. Oh my. This couldn't be happening. How did I agree to go with him this weekend? How was I going to be able to endure these fucking three days with him?!

I turned to the coffee machine and made a second cup of coffee before I could change my mind. Not about the coffee, about this idiotic masquerade.

"No need to worry about me," I snarled against myself, "I don't get sick that easily."

"Sure. You're so tough that even germs don't touch you," he sneered. I didn't know if he was serious, if he really saw in me that tough boy I was trying to pretend, or if it was one big joke. I didn't know and probably didn't want to know what he thought of me, "Dry your hair, Gogy."

For a second I thought about breakfast but then decided that my throat and stomach were too tight. I wouldn't swallow a bite.

"Gogy?" I repeated, warming my hands on the coffee mug. It was strong, just what I needed, "What is this?"