Chosen for Pleasure

1. A 'Normal' Day- Revised

(3887 words)

"Get your ass up!" I called through the door, the sleeping body behind it making no sound of waking. He was supposed to be up thirty minutes ago and yet I'm the only one in the house that is awake. "I swear to fuck I will kick you out."

I banged on the door at least five times before I heard groaning, deciding that the noises were a good enough cue that he would simply just fall back asleep. So, being the amazing person that I am, I barged into his room and caused the door to bang on the wall, watching as he fell out of bed due to the commotion. His blankets wrapped around him and his pillow stayed on by a single thread, the soft sound of a curse word drifting into my ear.

"Get the fuck out of my apartment, you're going to be late for work." I stood with my arms crossed and a hip jutted out, knowing he had maybe twenty minutes but also knowing he takes almost an hour to get ready on any normal day. "You have like five minutes."

He looked at me through messy blankets as his face changed from shock to frustration to worry and stayed on angry. He stood up quickly and muttered to himself, wildly trying to maneuver his way through his horribly messy room. "Mierda, no puedo llegar tarde de nuevo, me despediran." Those were only some of the words I could hear and it still left me clueless, the only one I did fully understand was that he said he would be late. (Shit, I can't be late again, I'll get fired.)

I left once he started to remove his clothes, the idiot not realizing I was still stranding there. After all the years we had lived together, I don't think I once saw him leave for work on time. He sleeps around nine or ten but acts like he never gets enough "beauty rest" as he calls it. I think he's just a dumbass that can't listen to his alarm clock.

I still can't believe that I let the fucker live with me. He's messy beyond repair, loud as shit, and aggravates me like it's his job. The only good thing that comes from him is that he can cook good pastries and he pays half my rent.

Even if we do fight a lot, we have our moments that makes me realize he isn't that bad of a guy. Like, for instance, when he stopped me from falling into a pond because some little kid decided to run into me. Or when I helped him when a dog had decided to turn him into its personal play toy. We have our ups and downs, but I don't think I would want anyone else to live with me... unless that other person knows how to clean up.

My mind focused back on the room as I heard a loud crashing sound, making me look towards where the dumbass was. He was in the living room and ignoring the pile of books he had just knocked over, making me realize he was looking for something. "Shit, shit, come on."

He lifted the cushions and moved some blankets around, making me try and hide the mischievous look I had plastered on my face only for the laughter that forced its way out of my throat to be my downfall. Knowing that he had around ten minutes before he needed to leave made the situation funnier than it actually was.

When he noticed me laughing, he stopped all movements and glared my way, only to turn and place a hand on his hip like he was a mother about to scold her kids. "Why are you laughing? This isn't funny. Help me find my wallet."

I let out another small laugh, always finding it funny when he tried to treat me like one of his younger siblings. "Dumbass, you have time." I laughed again as he dropped his hand, looking at me with reserved anger, his face slowly gaining a dark tint of red. "Plus, your wallet is on the counter."

He glared at me and started to come closer, the look of anger making me laugh some more since it was rare for me to see him this mad. "I'm getting you back for that one." His words barely registered as I tried to wipe my tears away, only for more to replace them.