Just Hate Me and We'll End It Here

Alex

Darn you, Bailey. Why do you have to be so freaking gorgeous? Your lips are practically screaming that they need me! Such a good kisser… I lean my head against the wall, frustrated. With her, with myself, with everything.

Doesn’t she like me? Sometimes, I think she does, but her pride stops her from being able to say anything. Poor thing… I mean, I’ve seen her being really great and everything. Seriously, she has those moments where she’s just perfect. Sweet, caring, funny as heck, adorable… but then she masks it all up.

Kind of bums me out… Sighing, I glance around and start to go, when I notice that her jacket’s on the floor. I pick it up, feeling the worn leather… a small silly smile spreads across my face- it smells like her. Like… coconut and lime, I think. Or canteloupe? Eh… doesn’t matter. But she always smells like that and leather, with a little bit of coffee- its pretty delicious.

Return it? And probably get slapped in the face.

Take it home? She’ll come over…

I like.

Grinning a little mischievously to myself, I casually stroll out to my car, holding her jacket and then setting it in the empty seat as I climb in. I wonder lightly if she’ll actually come out looking for it… well, maybe.

Too late! Heh…

Stepping inside the house, I’m met by Georgie who starts yapping and jumping over my feet, not caring that I keep stepping on him cause he’s small and keeps running around. Chuckling a little, I set everything down and pick up the little guy.

“Guess it’s you and me,” I rub his head.

Then I remember and can’t believe I forgot.

“Not for much loooonger,” I sing, grinning, to the dog. “We’ve got another roommate coming, now don’t we? No more bachelor pad, darn… eh. But we both love her to bits, so we can’t complain, right?” I scratch his ears and I swear, he has to be smiling too…

Seconds later, I realize she’ll want her own room… what then? I mean, I have extra rooms… but they aren’t exactly… for people. I mean, they have beds… they’re just a mess.

Stupid boy band, can’t crash at your own houses…

That means more work. Groaning, I pick myself up and wander around the house, trying to figure out the best room that she might enjoy. Finally, I choose the best: the one across from MY room! I told you it was the best!

Not exactly… completely clean, but… yeah. I spend the next hours cleaning up crap, pushing Georgie out of the way, vacuuming, attacking Georgie with the duster, dusting, putting on some fresh black sheets, and putting Georgie under the rug.

I think you have the right to know… Georgie has no sense of direction. He ran into me, the bed post and the wall [three times] a little too often before he finally gave up and I let him out from the rug… but it was funny…ha, little sucker…

Then I look around, Georgie in my arms. “Well?” I ask him. “Do you think it’s good enough for the little princess?” My mind wanders into a sudden idea. “Oooh, that’s good, Georgie! Let’s do it!” Cackling like a madman, I run downstairs and start going through my closet for some stuff, Georgie heading probably off to watch me or search for the Cheetohs…

Don’t tell him, but they’re on top of the fridge. Where he can’t reach! Little shrimp.