Keys rattle in my front door's lock at 6 a.m. and I barely give it a glance. I am even less interested when Annabelle is the one to walk in, and she is surprised to see me sitting on the ground in my living room, watching cartoons, while Devon is fast asleep in my lap.

To clarify, no, I didn't fucking sleep. I couldn't.

"Good morning?" She asks very carefully. Why is she even weirded out? She's the one that's here at 6 a.m.

I hum something in response and I guess that can pass as a good morning to her.

"How come you're awake?"

I snort at her and look at her by squinting a little. My eyes are probably bloody red from staring at the TV all night. "How bold of you to assume I went to sleep at all."

Annabelle chuckles at first, since she takes it as one of my jokes. Oh, so things are funny to you now, aren't they? But God forbid you'd give me a fucking smile yesterday!

Her smile then fades and she glares at me very concerned. "Are you serious? Why didn't you go to sleep?"

Right, why didn't I think of that, huh? Going to sleep, I should probably try it. I fucking did! "And why are you here at 6 a.m.?"

"I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep, if you have to know."

"Well, same here, lady. I woke up yesterday and couldn't go back to sleep. Are you happy now?"

Annabelle furrows her brows a little, then shakes her head in defeat. "Fine, be an ass."

She keeps herself busy with making fresh coffee, which would really suit me right now, but the longer we are silent, the weirder it gets. I for sure am not saying anything. She didn't want to talk to me yesterday, so she can enjoy the awkward silence alone. I'm gonna give her a taste of her own medicine.

"May I at least ask why are you holding Devon in your hands? Why didn't you just put him in his crib once he fell asleep?"

Well, ginger lady, you weren't here, were you! "He cried a lot."

I feel so strange right now. I feel like my face is melting like wax, but at the same time my eyes feel swollen. Not my eyelids, legit my eyes, the very balls with which I look around. That's a fucking disturbing way to describe eyes...

The smell of coffee stretches over the apartment as soon as Annabelle pours it into two cups and leaves them on the counter to cool off. At this point, feeling the way that I do, I wouldn't care if someone showered me with boiling coffee. It sure sounds like a weird ass death, but one would definitely make the headlines with it.

Why... am I thinking about things like that?

Annabelle approaches us and does exactly the opposite of what I expect her to do - she sits down next to us and looks directly at the TV where the beans and tomatoes are at it again.

"I can see the appeal of sitting here and glaring aimlessly." She nods, then looks at me from the side, waiting for my reaction. When she doesn't get any, she tries to be even funnier. "It's a little less appealing when a grown man is doing it."

I don't smile again. Even in my normal state I doubt I would. It's a stupid joke, I don't know what's up with her trying to be so bright and funny.

Her shoulder hits mine and I think I'll topple over. Luckily, I'm heavier than I think I am, and the entirety of my body mass doesn't just flop to the side.

"It's admirable that you stayed up because of Devon," she says with a tone so... sugary that I know she is smiling. She is smiling that... bubbly smile that makes her look so adorable.

Yes, very admirable of me, though. I totally didn't spend a night awake because you're the one using me for sex. I feel like a sex toy, like a vibrator that you pull out of your closet every now and then to have some fun by yourself.

"That was a compliment, Nathan. You usually like those. It gives you an excuse to build a skyscraper out of your ego."

It's weak to like yourself because someone else does. What would it make of me if I looked myself in the mirror and thought my eyes look seductive because a woman at a club said so? Sure, it's nice to hear it, but those words are meaningless. I don't believe I'm hellishly good looking because someone somewhere told me that. I believe it because I see it and I recognise it.

"My ego is as high as it needs to be. And show me a woman who doesn't like a confident man that actually functions and is a stable adult." Now, will you leave me be already?

Annabelle glares at me for a while, and I want to ask her if she finds me that hot, but then she looks at the boy in my arms and the way one of his legs is dangling in mid air. "You mind if I take him and put him in his crib?"

"And if I say that I do? What are you going to do?"

She furrows her brows. "Obviously you've been awake all night. Go to sleep for those two hours so you become at least a bit bearable."

Right, I'm the one that is unbearable, am I?! "Damn, it sounds like you care about this."

Without any ado about Devon, she reaches for him in my arms and craddles him into her embrace carefully as not to wake him up. When she speaks, the gentle tone is present because of a baby. "You're barely functioning, of course that I care about it."

Except that you don't, do you, Annabelle?!

"Right. Aren't you a saint." I mutter bitterly as I let go of the baby boy.

She shoots me another glare then without wasting any words she points at a coffee. She actually thinks coffee will change me, fucking ridiculous. This is not me behaving because I've been awake whole night, obsessing over your soft thighs and sweet smiles and when you laugh at my weird jokes, no! This is me behaving like this because of the way you've treated me yesterday!

I decide to amuse her anyway and go for that cup of coffee. Maybe then she'll finally understand what the fuck is up when she sees I'm still pissed at her even after I've had my morning coffee. Fuck it, I'll have four if I have to to prove my point.

She and Devon disappear behind the door of his room she closes, and I stop to think about this morning.

This is getting so out of control, I don't even know what's happening. Sure, I'm pissed, but she's been nothing but nice to me. She has helped me in any way she possibly could. She was even brave enough to meet Patty and my mother just because I asked her to do it. She got nothing out of it.

I guess I kinda used her...

Well if she's gonna use me as a warm and meaty dildo, then I might as well use her for my own things! It takes two to tango, lady!

Annabelle silently leaves Devon's room and leaves the door slightly ajar. Is this her way of trying to keep me silent? A lousy attempt. I'll scream if I'll feel the need for it.

"Was he teething?" She asks when she reaches for the second cup of coffee she has put on the counter. "He hasn't been taking it well during his afternoon naps, so I can only assume that's why he kept you awake all night."

It was you, Annabelle! You and your carelessness!

I forget to say anything back because I'm too busy inspecting her. Would she ask such a question if she didn't care about Devon? Caring about Devon is a completely different matter, he's a baby. So far women loved just to look at him. Freaking babies.

Annabelle brings the edge of the mug to her lips and carefully wraps them around it. Slowly she tips the mug, afraid the contents may still be too hot. She perks her cupid's bow when she feels she will taste coffee soon, but she is distracted by me glaring at her.

With bright blue eyes wide as marbles, she peers back up at me. I look away and that's when she pulls the mug away, preparing herself to ask me something about me behaving like a creep. I confess, that was me being a creep.

"I don't know. He cries about every damn thing, so as long as I can calm down, I don't care about it." Sounds familiar, doesn't it?

It takes her a couple of moments to give her coffee another try, and when she does she flinches and covers her lip with her fingers.

She swallows down all the contents despite the hot temperature, and puts the mug back down. It looks like coffee has burnt the entire length of her oesophagus, or she has something difficult on her mind. "Uhm, Nathan? I gotta talk to you about something."

"Oh, talk. Now you want to talk to me." I snort again and take a large sip. Unlike her, I'm not a sensitive crybaby and can take a burn of my insides like a grownup!

Annabelle turns to me with a snap and barks, "Okay, what the hell is wrong with you today?"

I take another sip, smiling like the ultimate douchebag. I played nice, Annabelle, but I'm done with it if I'm just another piece of dick for you! "Nothing. I'm absolutely peachy. Why?"

She regards me discontentedly, but at the sight of me she simply rolls her eyes and tries her best to continue what she started. Then she clearly changes her mind about it. "If there's something bothering you so much that you have to be that snappy, then contain yourself. I'm not in the mood to deal with you and my cramps both!"

I regard her a little bit bitterly. I can't be a dick to her now, can I? Unless I want to fucking die or end up at the hospital. Nah, Annabelle wouldn't do it. She needs me for sex! That's all that I clearly am for her.

She clears her throat and brings her tone back to the normal one, and she shoots me a quick look to make sure if I'm even listening to her. "Anyway, remember the audition I went to? You saw the ancient pictures of me."

"Yeah?"

Those pictures really were... I don't think if the dictionary has words to describe it. I hate it that I'm pissed at her, sleep deprived, but still amazed with her and those photographs. I want to focus on one thing, specifically on making her just as uncomfortable as she made me feel yesterday!

Yet, there's just an image of her looking slick, graceful, completely caught in the moment of music. She in that white ballerina dress stretching her leg on that pole and bending her body over, she sitting on the ground with her head tilted to the side, just her silhouette captured in the spin only a dancer like her can make look effortless.

I could sigh like a high school cheerleader gawking at a jock doing push-ups. She is really breathtaking in those pictures, but it doesn't change the fact that I'm disposable to her!

Annabelle looks at me worried and I can see it from her body language that she doesn't really know if she should tell me what's on her mind or not. She is shifting from one leg to another, and I doubt that's because one of her legs tires. She dances a ballet, her one leg is probably stronger than both of mine combined.

At last she decides to spill the beans. "Well, they picked me. They held a second audition for the few candidates they have chosen, and they liked me."

"Wow, bravo. So, you've got a new job now, huh?" And I bet she's that nervous because she is going to break the news about her abandoning this babysitting job. Wouldn't fucking surprise me.

She nods, clearly happy about it. By all means she should be happy, she won people over into picking her. I want to be happy for her because I know that she is ambitious, and I guess in a way I am, but my focus is clearly on me being pissed off as fuck!

"I guess I never told you what I auditioned for. I thought you'd laugh at me." She says with her head slunk down.

If you auditioned to be a stripper, it would make sense. They tend to fuck men and not care about them.

Taking another sip of coffee she made, with an excellent amount of sugar might I add, I shrug. "Maybe I will, who knows."

Annabelle gives me a small-like smile. For a moment there I believe she clearly doesn't know that I'm for real here, but then she proves me wrong. "I know that maybe you will. You are an ass like that. But now that I already have a job, the chances you will laugh at me are lower."

I huff at her response partly because I can still force myself to laugh at her if I want and partly because her assumption is pretty damn accurate. I also don't see a reason why would I laugh at her in the first place though.

Waiting for her response, I inspect her closely. She flutters her eyelashes at me a couple of times, but not the way women do when they want to appear cuter. She is legit nervous and she needs further encouragement in order to get her to talk to me.

"I'm waiting to have a good laugh, here."

"Right," she says and looks down by furrowing her brows a bit. "I'm going to perform on a stage." She mumbles so quietly and quickly I can barely understand her. With big eyes as if she's terrified that I might hit her, she looks up at me and then carefully regards my face expression and quickly skims over my shoulders. "You're invited to come and... watch."

Me? Watching ballet? In what world does that coincide? It doesn't, obviously. In a way I think ballet is kind of the hardest, but also the dullest dance I have ever seen. I haven't seen her dance, though, which would most likely change a lot of things.

I'm not gonna lie, I feel a bit silly upon being invited. Silly in a way high school girls used to giggle whenever me and the guys I used to hang out with passed them by.

Maybe I was too judgy about Annabelle. She wouldn't have invited me unless she clearly found me important. If I were just a random fuck for her, I doubt she'd bother to ask me. I know I wouldn't. Besides, I'd have to have a lot of performances then with the number of women I've been with.

"Oh," I smile at the cup a little, but I make it seem so as if I'm happy for her. That I obviously am, but I'm also a little bit happier about her thinking of me. "Well, congrats, I didn't know you performed as well."

"I normally don't." She looks down again and by the look of that smile, she looks very pleased with my reaction. "Are you even interested, though? We've talked about ballet before and I know it's not really your thing, but still."

It would be a bit strange if I declined her offer and spent the next night being pissed at her again about yesterday, wouldn't it? Even though her gesture warmed me up a bit doesn't mean I'm completely fine with what happened at her apartment, just to make it loud and clear!

"Just give me the details and I'll let you know." I nod and Annabelle's face lights up. I've known her long enough to know that's her 'hidden' response to something that delights her.

Surely she wouldn't be this happy unless she cared about me at least a little bit, right? If you don't care about someone, they could as well die as a roadkill and you wouldn't bat them an eye. Yet here she is, feeling excited about me coming to her performance.

"If I'll suck, you can still count the circles," she winks at me playfully. I recall the conversation she's referencing to, but my mood drops again. Back then I was scared shitless I was gonna ruin it with her again by, I don't know, lowkey looking at her ass or something of the sort, while all along there was nothing to worry about. She seems to be more carefree than me about it all.

I smile gently, more at her looking up in a cute manner than at the humorous memory. "And where is my official invitation?"

Annabelle's face falls momentarily for a second and she thinks that I'm in it for real. "You want an official invitation?" She asks, which seems like a rhetorical question.

I just want to aw at her. It's so innocent and... naive to believe I need anything official to do anything.

"Annabelle," I say, fighting the urge to smile widely in such a way that would give away how adorable I find her at the moment. "I'm just kidding."

A streak of faint blush covers her cheeks, but she laughs it off. "Right. I should have known. I just didn't know if you were gonna snap at me or not."

Towards the end she gives me a pointed look and I know what she's hinting at. I think she actually wants me to apologise. Well, too bad, I want her to do the same and tell me that she cares!

"Understandable." I set the empty mug down. "Anyway, I need to go and take a shower."

"Yeah, fine," she says a bit poutingly.

I can take a hint, Annabelle. Doesn't mean I'll listen to it like a good dog.

***

Shaving puts me in a better mood. For one I feel younger, fitter, more than ready to take up any challenge that there is!

I look in the mirror and observing my reflection takes me back to when I was in high school and so proud I could actually grow anything. There was also Patty who liked me with a bit of facial hair, even though back then it didn't look as perfect.

Shaving was an obligatory thing for me. My hair would grow only in certain places while I was still developing and I needed to shave unless I wanted to look like a beaten chicken with feathers in all the wrong places.

Patty would giggle at me whenever I shaved. In her eyes, I looked like a child again without any facial hair, but that was when I had already figured out how to shave and wasn't cut as if some gangaster decided to take it out on me with a knife.

I would get furious at the razor and myself to the point where I would just go over the skin no matter what and probably crash something in anger. I had problems with my hormonal rage unlike Daniel.

That was the time when my mum actually started to complain to my dad about all the ruckuss I was causing. He flew from Chicago to give me a slow introduction to how to normally shave without trying to turn myself into Freddy Krueger.

But even now that I'm thirty, if I shave I look at least five years younger, like I'm just out of college and looking for a job. I like it that way, gives me more advantage. And who doesn't like to look younger?

After staying awake for the whole night I need everything I can get to make myself look more presentable. I always look presentable, but I don't do 'average'. Average is for average people, which I clearly am not.

The whole bathroom is foggy with steam all up until I open the window and let fresh air take it away. I don't want Annabelle rushing Devon in the bathroom to change his diaper and slam anywhere because she'd see shit.

I slip on grey canvas trousers and leave the bathroom while I'm still buttoning up my shirt. On my way out I spot a chocolate brown dress with lacy sleeves.

I glare at it a little and recall that when I saw Annabelle just earlier she wore capri jeans and the Betty Boop T-shirt I have seen before. What is she going to do with that dress? And the heels!

I guess it's another dinner with her parents to celebrate the gig she got. The gig I was personally invited to see for myself!

I look up and first just observe her moving around in the kitchen. She's probably making breakfast as per usual, so if she's cooking she won't be able to avoid me without risking an arson.

I settle for another cup of coffee. It definitely won't be the last one I'll drink today and God knows I need every coffee bean I can get today.

"So," I start and try to find a mug I left on the counter. It turns out she's already washing it, so I go to the cupboard and get another one to avoid burping bubbles in the future. There was no need to already do the dishes... There was my mug and one or two plates in waiting.

She keeps her eyes on the soap, the sponge and those two plates and my mug that are in the process of washing. "So?"

I pour coffee in a new mug and she scowls at it as if I'm irrepairable. Well, I want my coffee, so she can scowl all she wants. "You brought another dress with you. Another dinner out?"

Annabelle smiles and wipes the dishes clean. Then she scowls at my mug again, as if this is just another one she will have to clean. 'Cause, you know, I've lived like a complete pig all my life, with the stench of old spoilt food being what really gets me off.

"Yeah. You approve of the dress?"

I lean on the counter and right next to the sink where she is."Can't say. I have't seen you wearing it yet." I bring the coffee up to my mouth and mutter into it before I take a sip: "Where are you taking your parents this time?"

She chuckles nervously and twitches with her nose a little bit. Is it not some grand restaurant and that's what she is embarrassed to say? I think it's nice to take your parents out. Well, if you get along with them.

"I'm actually going on a date."

I choke on the coffee that's been half down the way already. Somehow I manage to get it up again and I spit it into the sink, leaning onto it with one of my hands to stay up during a sudden vertigo, while doing my best to secure my grip on the mug with the second one.

"Jesus! Are you alright?" She jumps to my help squeakingly.

"Yeah, yeah."

No, I'm fucking not!

I whisper, "Hot coffee."

"Oh, you got me worried there for a second." She smiles relieved.

How noble of her being worried about me while she's on a fucking date!

"Mhm..." I just nod, too worried I might say something she will definitely not appreciate, which would be a fucking point!

"Anyway, my friend Eliana has been trying to get me to go out with this guy and... I guess tonight is the night. I'm gonna give it a try."

Oh, oh, we're talking about this now?

She shrugs and smiles. She smiles too wide for this to be just something casual.

Ex-fucking-cuse me?!

"Are you sure you're okay?" Annabelle asks me again and furrows her brows this time. Oh yeah, that really shows her concern.

"I-I-uhm... I'm great." I smile quickly, but it probably doesn't fool her. It fucking shouldn't! She should see that this... this bullshit is ridiculous!

"Nathan, I don't thi-"

"I gotta run. Go to work now so I can leave early. That way you'll have more time for your date." I grunt and with the last speck of common sense grab the keys and my wallet.

I say something that can resemble a good bye, but it isn't one. She runs after me, but I doubt she is aware of what caused this. Why? Because she just doesn't care. And I'm fucking outta here.

A/N: Oh, jolly! Nathan's had quite a rollercoaster of emotions in this one. Do you think he'll be able to control this surge of feelings or is he up to no good? I mean... it's just a date 🙄

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