Slightly Bruised and a Little Bit Used
Breakfast/Girlfriend
When I woke up, Shaant was lying half on top of me, and his arms were wrapped around me in a tight grip. I struggled for a bit against his vice-like grasp with no luck.
“Shaant,” I said irritably, trying to wake him up. I smacked his arm a few times in annoyance. “Shaant!”
“Hmm?” he mumbled, finally letting go of me in order to yawn and stretch.
I began putting my clothes back on. My neat little pile was so much more convenient in the mornings than the lustful scatter around his apartment it usually is.
“You’re not going to leave already, are you?” he asked, pulling his boxers on as I buttoned my jeans.
“Maybe if you weren’t such a dick last night, I’d consider staying,” I retorted.
“Maybe if you told me why you came last night in the first place, I’d consider cooking you breakfast.” I paused, mulling over his offer. I was hungry…
“Charli’s pregnant,” I blurted out, before I could help myself. He raised an eyebrow.
“So you want one too or something?” I glared.
“This isn’t funny,” I snapped in annoyance.
“You’re serious?” he asked. I rolled my eyes.
“No shit, I’m serious,” I snapped again.
“How’s Jeff doing?” he asked, using a quiet tone of voice now void of any sarcasm or humor as I followed him into his kitchen.
“He flipped out at first. Now he’s excited. They both are.” Shaant took this all in as turned on the stove. He stayed silent as he cracked a few eggs over the frying pan.
He served the scrambled eggs on two plates, placing one of them in front of me. He poured some orange juice for the two of us and we began to eat. I caught him staring at me more than once, and it gave me a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach.
I mean, I was wearing clothes, why is he staring?
Needless to say, this was one of the more awkward moments of my week.
He smiled slightly at me over his eggs, and it bothered me more than the staring.
As long as he didn’t try to hold my hand or something weird like that.
I glanced at the clock, realizing that I had exactly half an hour to get to work.
“Fuck,” I muttered, dropping my fork. “I’m going to be late for work. I look like shit.”
“You look great, you always do,” he said casually. “You can use my shower if you want,” he offered. I sat there, deciding.
“I’ll just use your bathroom, and then I’ll go,” I said. He nodded and I put my plate in the sink. I went to the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face and then fixing my hair the best I could. I even borrowed his deodorant and toothbrush to make up for not showering.
Ugh. I still looked disgusting.
I realized what was making me uncomfortable as I stared at myself in the mirror.
One night stands, or in our case, many night stands, do not stay for breakfast. Many night stands do not dish compliments in the morning.
Girlfriends stay for breakfast. Girlfriends accept compliments the morning after. Girlfriends borrow their boyfriend’s toiletries.
And if there was one thing I was not, I was NOT Shaant Timothy Hacikyan’s girlfriend.
“Shaant,” I said irritably, trying to wake him up. I smacked his arm a few times in annoyance. “Shaant!”
“Hmm?” he mumbled, finally letting go of me in order to yawn and stretch.
I began putting my clothes back on. My neat little pile was so much more convenient in the mornings than the lustful scatter around his apartment it usually is.
“You’re not going to leave already, are you?” he asked, pulling his boxers on as I buttoned my jeans.
“Maybe if you weren’t such a dick last night, I’d consider staying,” I retorted.
“Maybe if you told me why you came last night in the first place, I’d consider cooking you breakfast.” I paused, mulling over his offer. I was hungry…
“Charli’s pregnant,” I blurted out, before I could help myself. He raised an eyebrow.
“So you want one too or something?” I glared.
“This isn’t funny,” I snapped in annoyance.
“You’re serious?” he asked. I rolled my eyes.
“No shit, I’m serious,” I snapped again.
“How’s Jeff doing?” he asked, using a quiet tone of voice now void of any sarcasm or humor as I followed him into his kitchen.
“He flipped out at first. Now he’s excited. They both are.” Shaant took this all in as turned on the stove. He stayed silent as he cracked a few eggs over the frying pan.
He served the scrambled eggs on two plates, placing one of them in front of me. He poured some orange juice for the two of us and we began to eat. I caught him staring at me more than once, and it gave me a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach.
I mean, I was wearing clothes, why is he staring?
Needless to say, this was one of the more awkward moments of my week.
He smiled slightly at me over his eggs, and it bothered me more than the staring.
As long as he didn’t try to hold my hand or something weird like that.
I glanced at the clock, realizing that I had exactly half an hour to get to work.
“Fuck,” I muttered, dropping my fork. “I’m going to be late for work. I look like shit.”
“You look great, you always do,” he said casually. “You can use my shower if you want,” he offered. I sat there, deciding.
“I’ll just use your bathroom, and then I’ll go,” I said. He nodded and I put my plate in the sink. I went to the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face and then fixing my hair the best I could. I even borrowed his deodorant and toothbrush to make up for not showering.
Ugh. I still looked disgusting.
I realized what was making me uncomfortable as I stared at myself in the mirror.
One night stands, or in our case, many night stands, do not stay for breakfast. Many night stands do not dish compliments in the morning.
Girlfriends stay for breakfast. Girlfriends accept compliments the morning after. Girlfriends borrow their boyfriend’s toiletries.
And if there was one thing I was not, I was NOT Shaant Timothy Hacikyan’s girlfriend.
♠ ♠ ♠
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