7

"What are you still doing here? Pack up your things and skedaddle. This ain't no orphanage. I don't need another charity case other than myself. "

I opened the fridge and poured a glass of water. I got one tub of my Chocolate Coffee Tres Leches and set it on the table.

"I just moved in yesterday, have I not Love? "

I choked on the spongecake.

"Did you hit your head? Did a freight train hit you? Died on the spot but the gates of heaven refused to open? "

He got up from the couch and grabbed the spoon from me.

"Did you really forget what happened during that day? "

His face was inches from mine. I didn't know he had this long lashes. He smelled nice. Those biceps, Oh My... I'd love being---

"I could even hardly remember what happened last minute. " I spluttered an incoherent reply to which he only chuckled.

"Or that day. " It felt weird.

It's true. I should've been spiraling downwards to the depths of my dispair.

Probably, my body's smashed in a gruesome picturesque.

Meat of the Media.

Suicidal scope

News Flash.

"Where's your brother? " He stood upright and crossed his arms all the while eyes lingered on my lips.

"Am I playing with my reclusive jaunt here?   Forlorn solitude?  There was a reason why I'm alone. I don't know where he is. "

"For Fuck's Sake!"

"Dude ain't got no Chill. The fridge is yours tonight. You're so hot lava would be shy. " I stood up and went to the bathroom to change but he stopped me.

"Fucking lies. For all I know you just want my money. "

What is he talking about?

"Seriously, I don't even know you.  You just came here and even slept here with me! --- ew that sounded horrible. Slumber, snore,  that kind of sleep. Who are you?! "

"Your husband. "