Surviving The Blues

24

The sound of my stomach grumbling causes me to pull away from Glendale number two. It's not a sound that can only be heard by me, but a sound that he can hear too.

I clear my throat. "Sorry, I was woken up by you. I didn't eat." I mumble.

"You were asleep at after two?" He raises an eyebrow.

"I didn't peg you as the judgments type?"

"Was that judgment?" He fakes cluelessness.

"I can't decipher between yes and you are full of it," I say and he just shrugs.

"You should eat something." He says.

"I am not hungry at moment ." Of course, my stomach lacks etiquette and can't take a hint. No, instead, it decided to grumble rather loudly.

"Your stomach says otherwise."

"Whatever," I mumble sitting on the couch.

He walks over to the couch where I am sitting and sits too. "So are you going to eat..."

"You are nagging me, why?" I scrunch up my nose. "Aren't you suppose to not like people?"

"Who said I like you? I rather you not starve to death." He says. "You should seriously eat." He says.

"Since it's of such importance to you, I'll order Chinese food. Can I offer you some?"

"You said we are stocked here. How will you order?"

"It's the best Chinese food store in this area. No one is going to do anything to the delivery guy." I tell him. "I know you aren't vegan like your brother," I tell him.

"Yes, but don't you think we are too much fast food?" He asks.

"No. My dad and I eat out every day. You don't have to eat any. I was merely offering as a polite gesture." I tell him.

"Okay," I order my food before sitting down on the floor right beside where he is sitting on the couch. "Why?" He looks down at the floor.

"I prefer the floor," I tell him. "You can never tell what can come soaring through your windows." He slides down the floor and I laugh. It's an actually laugh, tears streaming down my face. I am bent over holding my stomach.

"I don't find humor in this situation." He says. "Since when do you laugh anyway?"

"I was only joking. That statement is more relevant to the first floor. Sitting on the floor would actually be more dangerous than sitting on the couch."

"Is this your third joke?"

"You are counting my jokes?

"More like unconsciously keeping track of any behavior unusual for you."

"Excuse me? You've known me for how long?"

"More than a month." He says.

"And you've talked to me how many times?"

"Don't you think you are asking too many questions?"

"No way." I shake my head.