I am convinced I am seventeen again. And no, it's not because of my unstoppable libido, eagerness, immatureness, or excellent stamina.

It's just Annabelle and this phone call. There's something strangely intimate to two people just talking over the phone, both doing their own things in the apartment, and it's so innocent.

I don't know, I just get a mental picture of young kids just starting high school, both knowing they like each other, but not one of them daring to take it beyond the simple things. And I've never done that in my life.

Talking about... nothing in particular and about everything. 'Cause we stayed on the phone for at least an hour. It was kind of flirty, kind of not, kind of just goofing around and being dorky, but also not really. It was pretty much a bliss. I guess that is now something I can cross off of my list.

Huh...

Who would've thought that after all of my sexual adventures and after all the lovely women I've met, I'd drool at the thought of a phonecall. I can't even call a doctor without two hours of preparation, and I could barely put the phone down yesterday.

It was bordering the most cheesy scenario possible. The 'You hang up! No, you hang up!' scenario. I can't see it in the movies, it's... It's so unrealistic. You just hang up the damn phone. But I'll confess that yesterday, pressing that button was like bursting my little bubble in which I was happy and safe. I felt almost empty. The apartment suddenly felt empty, even though I had a baby on a mission to climb into my drawers.

I'm not going to lie, I missed her the moment I could not hear her voice over the phone anymore. And more than ever before, I wanted to take my wallet, my keys and Devon, and just drive over to her place. We wouldn't have to do anything... Just talk.

It would be just like the phonecall. She'd tell me which characters from The 100 she hates the most or which ones she loves, or what was her first concert like and how old she was, or even if she ever wanted a tattoo or a piercing and if she had the latter done, why did she remove it. I want to hear about her mundane things.

Maybe I could ruin a movie or two for her by saying that there is no way in hell Marty McFly's flying skateboard could generate its own power out of thin air and easily manage to stay afloat. I was sure she was gonna hang up on me, but when she didn't and tried to laugh it off, I'm sure she grabbed her laptop and downloaded all Back to the Future movies. Just imagine, I get over there and find her watching the movie while still clinging onto the phone. I join her and ruin the rest of the stuff for her, piss her off a little bit, then apologise to her by cuddling next to her.

Okay, perhaps it wouldn't be exactly like the phonecall. But only because we ended up wishing each other a good night - I know damn well I wouldn't just settle for it, I'd want her to give me a good night!

After the call, when I looked over at my couch, I felt absolute disgust. I could not sit down in it even if I wanted to do it with all my being. Simply from far away it looks empty and cold, very uninviting, but when I imagine Annabelle's couch, I feel a sort of longing for its homey atmosphere. Plus, I'd want her there. I kind of doubt the couch is the problem here.

Even Devon wanted to talk to her, and when a kid enthusiastically wants to talk to an adult, you know that they're no ordinary human. It may have all been gibberish, but Annabelle made it an effort to continue the conversation. She kept asking him questions, pretended to be shocked or very happy about his answer, and all of that gave Devon more motivation. I liked that he was enjoying himself, but, in my mind, I could hear Annabelle say that responding like this to babies is important because it helps then develop social and conversational skills.

I know she has babysat many children and that most likely all of them loved her. I mean, I adore her, and I am no child. But she knows a lot of tiny technicalities about the development and what to do to boost that and such. Of course, I get a sickeningly sweet twist in the stomach when I come across the idea of her and Mason trying to get pregnant. Like, why else would you know all these things unless you were preparing for a child?

While Devon was still on the phone happily chatting like a major it-girl, I calmed myself down by telling myself that Annabelle called me. Not him. So, even if there was talk of a baby, she prefers mine!

Mmm, I don't like how that sounded...

I still can't help it, though. All of it happened yesterday in the evening, and I'm still reliving it.

It's nice to remember how she giggled or how she bit back when she was done with me teasing her. And it was nice to hear about dumb shit Caitlin's done and dumb shit that she has done. Or how she spoke to Devon and how he reacted back to her, and how we told each other jokes when we were too tired to come up with another topic.

More surprisingly, I liked telling her about things too. It's dumb to assume I share anything with anyone. Sure, I can kiss you and give you a night you won't forget, but I am not keen on telling any stories, even if they're mundane and add absolutely nothing to my character or who I am as a person. So what, people never learn what happened when I first tried a cigarette - I can still fuck, though, and that's the thing I can share with them.

But see... I liked telling her how Austin and I were sneaking into our dorms wasted as fuck in the middle of the night, desperate for no one to hear us. It didn't help that we crashed into every single thing there was in the hallway. And I didn't mind letting her know how I didn't trust any dog for a couple of months after I've read Cujo.

All of that is great thinking material when you're taking a break from your work. Yet, I'm here thinking about how far Mason and Annabelle actually were.

Maybe they weren't exactly thinking about having babies, or they were, who the fuck knows, but what about the wedding? Was everything already arranged? Was the date set? Was she on a diet so she'd fit into her wedding dress for the big day, assuming she had found a wedding dress? If she had bought it, does she still try it on, if she hasn't returned it yet?

And women think their overthinking goes places...

The bottom line here is that yesterday that conversation with Annabelle sparked joy. And if there's even a slight chance, I could get that today, I'll go for it.

I can only imagine she was enjoying it as well, otherwise why would she stay on the phone with me for that long?

I don't think I'll ever forget the feeling of desperately trying to stay awake. No, the feeling isn't exactly comparable to the one when you're in class at 7 a.m. This feeling was all about trying to stay up because it was too good to just let it end.

I hate to admit it, but it was for the best that we hung up when we did. I say weird shit anyway, and as sleep deprived, I don't want to know how much worse if can get. And there was still Devon, a wide-eyed baby, who scared me that it's gonna be another sleepless night - a sleepless night when I felt very much like sleeping!

Luckily, one good-night story did it for him. Not exactly one, he's quite picky, which is something I both hate about him and value it. I had to try with five different stories before he settled for one and stopped lookong at me like I'm some Russian spy durimg the Cold War.

Out of all the magical stories I'm familiar with and tried to make them even more interesting, be it the story of Aladdin, The Magic Well, or one of the normalised and toned-down Grimms' stories, Devon liked The Very Hungry Caterpillar.

It's insane. Why would you want to hear about a fat, greedy caterpillar and not about a once-ugly-but-now-hot duck!

I tell myself that that's just because he's still very little, that he'll learn to love stories with magic gushing from all corners and with princes and princesses and dragons.

In any case, The Very Hungry Caterpillar did the job and it put him in sleep. But when I think about it, I've spent so much time telling him all the other stories, that it could've been pure coincidence he fell asleep during the Caterpillar, maybe he was just too tired, and I just happened to be telling him that story.

I was just praying he wouldn't wake up crying in the middle of a night. His teeth haven't been a problem in a while, so it looks like he got used to the nagging feeling which he simply bites on. I'm more concerned about other things that keep him up at night - it's too often that he wakes up crying and he is not hungry, not cold, his diaper isn't full, but he cries nonetheless, until I pick him up.

Is this some kind of a test? I know kids are one of psychologists, and they will push adults as far as possible to see how far they can go. And if anyone does that best, it's the babies.

But, you know, Devon does it like any other kid. I give him a toy, he throws it. I pick it up and give it back to him only so that he can throw it again. Except that that time I don't pick it up. Obviously he throws a tantrum, but they've calmed down now, he knows I won't be running after the things he throws like some puppy.

Nah, I don't care what people and specialists will tell me, I know for a fact Devon isn't testing me by crying out during the night. Sometimes it is just a diaper, but most of the time, it's not. And am I dumb to assume it's got something to do with the time before he was given up for adoption?

It's so fucking weird to think about it - I adopted Devon. I adopted him and I know exactly what each cry is about. I don't know if that was just propaganda of some sort or what, but when I was in school and we had sex ed, the doctors would always stress how a bond between a child and a parent can be strong only if they're also biological parents. I can't believe how hard I disagree with that, I had my biological mother and I, to this day, believe I'd be better off as an orphan. That way I could at least imagine she would make a good mother. And isn't it obvious the kid is gonna love the one who's there? At least, it should be that way.

In any case, the night passed with no interuptions. I believe both Devon and I got some of that beauty sleep, even though I needed at least an hour to actually shut an eye. I just couldn't stop reliving the night when Annabelle was here with me after the ballet performance.

My God, that ballet performance...

I felt like Hades whose heart has gone soft after Orpheus played on a lyr for him. Except instead of Orpheus' music, I had Eurydice's dance.

Now, I'm facing a conundrum. Do I invite her out for something similar like the dinner sometime soon or do I say nothing and just call her in the evening? Frankly, I want to do both. But more than anything, I'd love it if we were both here in my bed right now. There's just something calming about having someone by your side.

Anyway, when I fell asleep, I fell into absolute comatose. When I opened my eyes, my alarm was going off like crazy until it was finally silenced. And when it was silenced, it was a sight to behold, because it was Annabelle who did it.

At first I grinned, kind of hornily, not gonna lie, but then she asked me if I don't have a job, and I was sure it was the heart attack that was gonna end me. Funny enough, I didn't even understand what she said at first, I just pulled her onto the bed and tried to fall back asleep.

Seriously, what is wrong with me...

And as she fell onto the bed, she did my favourite thing - she cried out my name like I'm the biggest teaser driving her insane.

And I goddamn love that!

Then she spent the rest of the morning laughing at me for being in a rush. I like that I can make her laugh, but then I didn't like how the tables have turned!

And since this morning, I've been planning small revenge, but obviously the kind she would love but pretend not to, and I'd be rewarded for it!

The more I try to think of a lovable prank, the more I'm leaning towards actually doing something nice for her. Coming up with a mischevious plan is soon replaced with an idea of me coming home in a bad mood, making her worried and then surprising her with a bunch of flowers. That is no revenge at all!

Then my genius scares me - I'm not going to come up with revenge. I'm going to, you know, do something sweet. 'Cause seeing her unsuspecting and overwhelmed smile is more rewarding than having her scream at me and then playfully pout.

I guess that's what I'm going to do. I'll do something sweet. I still need to come up with what exactly that 'something sweet' is, but I'm rather determined to pull it off. After all the trouble she's been through with that asshole Mason, she'll need a bit of cheering up.

I just hope I'll come up with something good until this afternoon, and not just because I want to surprise her today exactly, but because I'm getting excited about making her happy. And frankly, I really want to spend some time with her as soon as possible, so the sooner I come up with a good plan, the sooner I'll get to be with her alone.

A/N: Okay, I completely mixed up week. I was sure the update was scheduled for this weekend, so I'm really sorry about mixing up the time 😅 Please, forgive me! Yes, this chapter is a bit shorter than others, but I think it's quite meaningful, since it's all within Nathan's mind.

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~ Blackie