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Hey, sweeties. I'm so excited to be writing this series, it's not even funny. Ha ha. I hope you all enjoy and thank you so much to the people reading. Feedback is always welcomed because I like to grow as a writer. Enjoy!
~Nicole.
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It's been almost four weeks since Alex moved in and everything has been so damn awkward. If it wasn't me walking in on him in the bathroom, it was him forgetting to leave boxers on at night. We tried tactics with each other to make things easier, like let the other person know that they were going to go use the bathroom or try to put a sheet in front of his bed as to not have me wake up and see all of his glory every time, but we still walked in on each other regardless and the sheet almost always fell at random parts of the day. I couldn't fucking win with this dude.
"You seriously need to chain up your damn boxers from now on."
I said to the drowsy, naked Alexander as I closed my eyes and tried my best to pass his bed smoothly and towards the bathroom. Every day, every goddamn day. Fuck him and his boxers, just fuckin' fuck. Ugh. As I thought I had made my way through enough to open my eyes, I ran right smack-dab into the coffee table near the bathroom door and cursed like a sailor.
"Fucking mother of crackers, asshole - shit, fuck, shit! Fuck!"
Over all my frantic, unlady-like swearing and yelling, I could hear Alex laughing so hard he had trouble catching his breath. Good to know he was having a good laugh and I told him just that.
"Carla, you're such a riot."
"Glad I can make your day, ass."
"Oh, don't be so grouchy, you grumpypants."
That's one thing I'll never get about Alexander. He doesn't normally talk a lot and when he does, conversations don't last long. Not that that's a bad thing, if anything I hoped he would be sort of like that. Since my prayers of him having a shitty personality didn't work, he could at least be a quiet, charming hottie, but back to what I wanted to say: Though he may be quiet most of the time, when he talked he never raised his voice, never swore, and when he was to call me names it was always strange ones like "Grumpypants." A few days ago when I had tripped over his books, he laughed and called me a "Clutzy-Cat" after saying sorry three times while I cursed out a storm, again.
I was rubbing my big toe furiously, as to rub out the throbbing pain when I felt Alex brush passed me towards the mini fridge he brought a week ago for us. I froze for a moment and kept repeating in my head:
Please have your boxers on, please have your boxers on. You better have your goddamn boxers on!
With one swift, sneaky glance I saw that he was, in fact, wearing boxers and I finally relaxed, wincing a little when I stood back on my foot. I could never keep my eyes off him when he walked around topless. He had a few tattoos on him and that got me good, I've always been a sucker for tattoos even though I have none myself yet.
The only couple tattoos I could make out, was the one on his wrists that said something like: "Always Remember" and the one that was a tribal marking of some sort that covered half of his chest and side. The other three were a little too small for me to see well and it's not like I was gonna get up in his business just to see. I barely let myself sit next to him on the same couch for long. I was kinda starting to feel bad for the way I was treating him. I wasn't a cold-hearted bitch or anything, but I wasn't the warmest person to be around all the time either and sometimes he seemed to want to ask questions, but stopped himself. That was okay with me, less questions, less answers I don't even want to give.
After we both gotten ready for class, we parted our ways. Off to art for me and him off to English - not like I was keeping tabs on him or anything. Watching him walk away and other occasions where we went together to pick up some groceries at times, I couldn't help but notice the way he acted in public. He stuck out like a sore thumb due to his looks and yet no matter how many women and men gushed over him, he never let it get to his head. He even sort of politely ignored them, if that was possible. He walked with confidence, his head high and his eyes roaming around everything. He wasn't one to not enjoy the little things no matter where he went. I probably sound like a creeper, but I can't help but watch him when he's not looking.
I was five minutes late for my class, but my teacher, Miss Raver, didn't seem to notice because she was so into her lesson of the day that even when a kid dropped his text book on the floor it caused a loud echo and she barely flinched. I slid into my seat and listened to her as best as I could. Miss Raver was known for her speedy talking, a lot of people had trouble keeping up with her when she got really excited over something and today was no different while I tried to focus on her words that all seemed to slur together. Sighing softly in annoyance, I just gave up after trying to pay attention for ten minutes. My mind wandered to other things like my math test that I had next, my doctors appointment that I had to find a way to get to by next week, Alexander, and my late work I needed to get done after classes were over. Mainly I thought of Alexander, but lets pretend I care about my math test and all that other stuff too.