Toxic

Sundays. I had always had an exceptional love for Sundays. It meant I got to sleep in, get caught up on whatever heinous work my weekly job threw my way, and cleaned the apartment so Caroline didn't decide to bite my head off about it. The days were rather routine and fairly simple. I awoke more or less around noon, made a bagel, turned on my music and went straight to work. Nothing ruined my stride, and nothing broke my rhythm. As my eyes fluttered open, I was ready to attack this Sunday like I did any other one, but something quickly stopped me and my eyes focused on the room around me. This...wasn't my room. This...wasn't my apartment. And I was pretty sure that this wasn't my arm that hung around my stomach.

Taking in a deep breath, I slowly remembered where I was. Rolling over in the strong arm that hung around me, I glanced at the man who was still passed out next to me. Shit. I needed to get out of here before he woke up. It's not that I didn't want to face him... Okay, it was that I didn't really want to face him. I looked to the clock for any sense of the time. It was barely nine a.m. which meant that I still had time to get out of his bed, catch a cab, get my car, and make it back to my own apartment by 11. That way, I could fall back asleep, wake up at noon, and start my Sunday like it was intended to be started. Slowly, I slipped out from under Mike's arm. I grabbed my jeans from the floor, as well as my bra and underwear. To my dismay, I couldn't locate either of my tanktops to save my life. Normally, I would take the time to find them, but I didn't care. He could keep them as some souvenir if that's what he really wanted. Instead, I grabbed one of his shirts and tip toed to the bathroom, not wanting to wake up the sleeping beast that still lay in bed.

I closed the bathroom down with quiet precision before looking myself over in the mirror. Even I jumped at the state of my appearance. Makeup was smeared underneath my eyes, my hair was one of the biggest disasters I'd ever seen, and my skin was like an oil slick. I might have been planning to sneak out of this place unnoticed, but that didn't mean I wanted to walk outside looking like I had just woken up. Quickly I washed my face, removed the makeup the best I could, and pulled my hair into another ponytail, just to keep it tame until I got back home. I pulled on the clothes I grabbed, and sighed at how large the shirt was. If it wasn't obvious already that I had just had a one night stand, the shirt would definitely give it away. Slowly, I reopened the bathroom door to make sure Mike was still sound asleep, but to my surprise, he wasn't. Actually, he was gone.

Pulling the door open even more, I looked at the bed, confused. I had barely been in the bathroom five minutes, and made sure to stay as silent as a mouse, yet he was already up? Slowly, I carried myself to the doorway that led into the living room and kitchen. To my surprise, there he was, standing behind the counter, busy at work. "What are you doing?" I heard myself ask in a much ruder tone than I had intended. Mike's head flew up to look at me with that goofy childlike grin on his face. His black hair was a total disaster, sticking up in all directions and his face still looked tired. However, his eyes were bright and playful. As much as I wanted to run away, my feet wouldn't let me. Instead they took me to the bar that separated the kitchen from the living room where I took a seat across from him, still curious as to what the man was doing.

"Making you breakfast," Mike announced, rather excited about the fact. It wasn't until now that I noticed the different foods laid out on his side of the counter. Eggs that had yet to be broken, uncooked bacon and sausage, bread which sat next to the toaster, uncut fruit. My eyes trailed back to him before down to what he was working on. Grating cheese. What possible need would he have for grating cheese? "I wasn't sure what you liked, so I was just going to make everything I had. Omelets, bacon, toast, sausage, fruit, oatmeal. But now that you're out here, you can tell me what you want."

I was in awe. I would have figured that Mike would have wanted me out of his apartment as fast as possible this morning so he could go on the search for another girl to fill his bed tonight. Instead, he was standing in the kitchen offering to make me whatever my heard desired for breakfast. The thought made my stomach do a quick backflip before I realized that he was staring at me and I had yet to answer his question. For some reason, my head couldn't formulate the answer it needed to though. When I opened my mouth to talk, something entirely different came out that what I had planned to say. "Do you do this for all of your one night stands?"

That childlike expression on his face quickly vanished once the question left my lips and I was left to feel like shit. Why had I done that? He was trying to do something nice for me and I just completely and totally ruined it. I should have just walked out the door when I saw him in the kitchen instead of sitting myself down like this was my home. Obviously that wasn't the case. To my surprise, his head fell and he continued to work on the cheese. "You really don't think very highly of me, do you?" He asked, not looking up from his work now.

"I didn't mean it to be rude," I began standing up and walking around the counter. "I just...I've seen you take so many girls home that I figured you just loved them and left them." Leaning myself against the counter, I watched him again, guilt washing over me like a tidal wave. Stupid Cooke. When will you learn to keep your damn mouth shut?

"Maybe...I think you're different." Mike said, glancing up at me, that hurt expression shining through.

For some reason, this made me laugh. I don't know why, but it did. Maybe it was because of the awkwardness I felt, or because I really didn't know what else to do. My hand flew over my mouth and I shook my head, not wanting to hurt his feelings. It took me a minute to regain myself before I coughed and shook my head again. "Why would I be any different?"

Mike put down what he was working on before turning to me. His dark eyes met mine and I felt something shift inside of me. I knew he wasn't looking at me like he did those blonde bimbos that he escorted in and out of the bar every weekend. I had seen him look at them the same way. This wasn't that kind of look though, and I knew I had to be in for a ride. "You don't take my shit. I could feed you line after line after line and you would just roll your eyes at me," Mike said, moving a little bit closer. "It's not as easy as batting my eyelashes and calling you pretty. You're going to make me work for you, and that's something nobody usually makes me do."

He had to work for me. The statement was true, but I had just slept with him after one measly date. "You've already slept with me. What else is there for you to conquer here?" The words escaped me before I could stop them. I was genuinely curious as to what else I could offer Mister Green that the other couldn't.

"Your heart," Mike began. I felt myself catch my breath as he continued, "I've been walking into that bar time and time again. Sure, it may have been with a different girl each time, but every time I actually had my eyes on you." I felt his hand touch the side of my face, where his thumb traced my cheek softly. "Every disgusted look you threw my way made me want to prove to you that you were wrong. Every snide comment I overheard you tell your friends made me want to charm you even more. And every time I saw you, I fell for you a little bit more." His lips hit mine with such ease that I didn't know what to do. I kissed him back softly before I felt him pull away. My eyes met his and for the first time since my Father died, I felt tears well up behind my eyes.

And like that, I was out the door, running.