It’s hard to believe how really fucking cold it can get in this house. A hoodie, down comforter, velvet duvet, another comforter, two blankets, and a sheet later I still shivered as I pressed my face into the pillow praying for sleep. Just to make it better; just to be dead to the world for a little while.
I wince as my mobile seemingly blares through the silence I’m trying so hard to create. I smack it until it stops. Five minutes later, it starts again. Finally, I pick up.
“Hey – did I wake you” he says softly. “Sorry if I woke you.”
“I wasn’t asleep, it’s ok.”
“Well, I’m just calling to say we’ll be there in an hour.”
“You’ll what?”
“Be there in an hour. You should get out. Lou says we’ll be there in about an hour. We’re picking up some Vox now.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’m sleeping.”
“No you’re not. I’ll see you soon” he says softly and hangs up.
Fuck. I don’t want to get up. The last thing I want is to see people. I know they only mean the best, I know they’re being nice; no one really wants to put up with my bullshit. It was my own fault after all. I was the one who didn’t believe in sleep. I’m the one who can’t say no. I’m the one who’s got to stop smiling – it gives the wrong impression. I’m the one who’s always going to do it tomorrow, quitting tomorrow, sleeping tomorrow, and reading tomorrow. The self pitying train of thought is interrupted by the phone again
“Get up. I mean it” the voice says angrily “I’m fifteen minutes away and it’s freezing.” I mumble a response or a protest, it didn’t matter which and desperately search for something to wear. Huge trousers and two shirts later I peer into the mirror trying to attempt to make my hair do something other than what it is.

The icy wind cuts through the wool of my coat as I get into the car. As we drive back Lou blasts the stereo and I shiver in the backseat. We pile into Charlie’s golden hued kitchen and huddle around as he pours the drinks – a gin and tonic for Lou and cranberry and vodka for me. Charlie turns around and busies himself with making rice for dinner as Lou and I sip our drinks. Charlie fixes himself a cranberry and vodka as we eat and stand around the kitchen talking and eating.
As the night wore on we lay in the parlour listening to music and talking. Charlie went to a party in Toronto last weekend and got some less than stellar ecstasy. Neither Lou nor I have anything interesting to follow that with. We toast the end of my exams, Lou’s upcoming exam, and the song on the radio. Eventually Lou passed out on the floor and Charlie and I were left alone on a pile on the sofa.
Softly his hand stroked my neck and then my face. Slowly he works his hands onto my shoulders softly rubbing and then onto my back. As he rubs my back I melt into the sofa and everything slowly fades away as his kisses are layered on my neck.

A work of ficition thanks ... this is a blog; not real life.