Maxxie: disappointedMature

Maxxie

 

The sexy man walks out and I groan. My head hurts. Like, really hurts. I want the sexy man back; I was comfy before he decided to fuck off.

I haul myself out of the bed and  pull on my boxers, staggering to the front door. I open it again, not expecting to see him still there. But there he is, sexy man, whose name I don't remember, leaning against the wall with his head in his hands. I roll my eyes and grab the front of his shirt, pulling him back inside.

He protests about going to work, and being late, but I grunt at him to shut up and sit down while I make coffee and he just gives in. I shove a mug of coffee in his hands and flop on the sofa beside him, curling up with my eyes half closed.

"I don't remember your name," I mumble over the rim of my own mug. I like to know the name of the people I screw; it makes me feel like less of a slut.

"It's, uh, it's Cayden," he says, staring at his shoes. He doesn't wanna be here, does he? Whatever, he can shut up and put up.

"Wow, you're not one of those weird closet cases that screws a guy and then pretends he didn't, are you?" I've had a few of them. They're weird. Not so great to have around in the morning after.

"No. I've just never stuck around this long afterwards," he mutters, still not looking up.

"Why not...? I'm Maxxie, by the way." I get the feeling I might have been too drunk to introduce myself. In fact... where did those aspirin go?

"I just... Look, I pick up drunk people, it's what I do. No commitment needed. And chances are they won't remember a thing in the morning so they don't notice when you're gone," he explains and I nod, getting up to look for the aspirin.

"Sounds like me," I say into the medicine box, my head throbbing. I pull out the little yellow box and swallow a couple of the pills, then throw them at Cayden. "I dunno about you, but my head kills."

"Master of all hangovers, me. Only time I ever had one was when I was seven. Tried a bit too much wine at a wedding and why did I just tell you that?" he pulls this ridiculously gorgeous confused face, y'know the kind that you can appreciate in spite of a pounding headache and the floor not staying where it should? I giggle and curl back up on the sofa beside him. "I don't tell people things so why the hell did I do that?"

"Because I'm just one of those faces that inspires trust," I smile, "that and I'm totally easy to talk to." He jumps up and starts babbling about going to work again.

"I'm... I should probably go. I mean, I've got work and all and...yeah..." I grab the hem of his shirt and pull him back down. No one argues with hangover Maxxie, ‘kay?

"If work was that urgent, I wouldn't have found you standing outside my door with your head in your hands." He starts to get all bitchy and pulls this irritated face at me. Which is also cute.

"What makes you think I wasn't regretting sleeping with you? I was pretty drunk last night too, y'know."

"I wouldn't know, I was too drunk to sit on my own bar stool," I counter, "and you'd have protested a bit harder than you did when I pulled you back in."

"You've really got me cornered, huh? Well, Maxxie, I don't know what you want me to say. I can't think of any way to do this without hurting you because frankly you seem to want to make something out of this. But nothing will ever happen. I tried dating someone before, ended up screwing some guy in an alley a week later," bitch face.

I just grin, though.

"Who said I was looking for more than just a steady fuck buddy? I'm bored of being a total slut; a familiar face would be nice, and I might as well make it a fucking sexy face at that."

"Why are you being so difficult?" he sighs and I begin to laugh. Hysterically. And in front of Mr. Sexy Cayden...

So not cool.

"I dunno, I think I'm still drunk," I giggle.

"If you were still drunk I would have convinced you to drop this and let me go to work the second you hauled me back in here," he growls and my eyes widen slightly.

"I'm a stubborn little fuck, aren't I?" I smile, downing the last of my coffee. I put the mug on the floor and pull my knees to my chest, hugging them there with a sigh. "Y'know what, just ignore me. I'm just being an idiot, as per usual."

He heaves a sigh too, "c'mon, don't guilt trip me. I don't know you that well, but you're not an idiot." Yeah, haha, sure. He gives me an awkward one-armed hug and it's very, very hard to avoid kissing him. I don't hug him back, trying to keep my lips under control and fight back the wave of disappointment as I prepare myself to tell him he can go. He moves back and rubs his eye, "look, I seriously need to go. I've got a twenty minute bus ride and," he pauses to check his phone for the time, "about two minutes to spare."

"If you say so... you can go if you really want, I guess. I promise I won't drag you back this time," I force the words out and make myself laugh and smile, trying to hide how I feel like a complete idiot, regardless of what he says about that. 

 

The End

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