These past few days Jason has been acting strangely; he and some random hookups typically visit here during the day, but he only comes back at night. Since I am always startled awake at three in the morning by false orgasms, it really annoys me. I mean, they really must be fake because no one is that good at all. Is this jealousy kicking in?
Suddenly, I hear a soft knock on my door. I rise from my study table, the chair scraping softly against the floor, and gently push the door open, revealing what lies beyond.
He stands bare-chested, revealing his sculpted physique.
Jason was so beautiful.
My stomach stirred, and flutters I couldn't explain swarmed in my chest as panic set in. I wanted to rub my chest and get this feeling out of my head.
Jason pulled my attention from my freaked-out thoughts.
"Hey, Marie," he says. I lift my head to see him smiling down at me.
"Hey," I squeak out. His smile turns into a frown.
"What's wrong with you?" He asks; I shake my head and put on a fake smile.
"Look, I can tell something's bothering you," he says, stepping into my room. When I turn around, he is already sprawled out on my bed, arms crossed over his head.
"It appears I arrived at the wrong time," he remarks, casting his gaze over my desk.
"Why the fuck are you even here?" I ask.
He lets out a soft chuckle, his hand gently smoothing the fabric of the bed beside him. As I approach my bed, I gently lower myself to the edge, taking a moment to settle in.
"Marie," he cautions.
"What!?" I shrug.
"Come here," he says.
I shake my head.
He thinks it is a good idea to just pop out and ask me to do whatever he wants, so he can ignore and use me whenever he wants. Well, I am not going to go down that road.
"Marie,," he cautions once more.
"No way!" My statement is as assured as it can be.
A low-volume giggle escaped him.
To show my disapproval, I give him the silent treatment.
"I need to continue studying," I say, getting up and making my way to my desk.
"Yeah, sure, go ahead," he says.
"Jason, I need you out," I say, giving him a death stare.
He stares back at me.
Getting up, I open the door to my room and say, "Jason, out!"
As he leaves my bed, he gives me a sneering look and rolls his eyes.
"What exactly is so wrong with you today?"
As I avoid making eye contact with him, I respond, "Nothing, Jason."
When I try to walk back to my desk, he blocks my path. I try to move to the side, but he continues to block my path.
"Jason, just what is the matter with you?" Frustrated is the word I would use.
"What's wrong, Marie?" He asks, grabbing my arm.
Instead of speaking, I simply look down at the floor.
As I pull myself away from him, he releases his grip on me.
He makes another attempt, saying, "Can you at least tell me what's going on?"
When I think about how he kissed me in that car and all of those loud moans from those other girls he would sneak in, I feel my blood begin to boil.
"Please leave Jason," I say
"We are roommates; you can tell me whatever is bothering you," he says.
"Jason, I said leave!"
With a quick motion, he gets around me and opens the door, then he quickly leaves.
*********
Cooking dinner for myself because Jason is not here and probably will not be for a while. If he does return, I have a feeling he will bring one of his hedonists over. I feel bad for Kate because I have never seen them in action, but I do feel bad for her because Jason brings different girls home. Sometimes he will pretend to check on me to see if I am sleeping, but it is always an act.
Suddenly, the front door flies open, and I quickly look over to see Jason stumbling. This interrupts my plan to turn on the stove.
I quietly tell myself, "Great, now he is home drunk again."
He slurs, "I heard you," as he clumsily makes his way to the living room and tries to sit down on the couch, only to fall flat on his face.
With a light-hearted laugh, Taking a step away from the stove, I make my way over to the couch, where Jason is lying on the floor, appearing as though he has just witnessed an extraterrestrial being.
I yell out, "Jason!" but he pays no attention to me and keeps staring at the ceiling.
"How much alcohol did you take?"
He gazes at me with sagging eyes and a slotted smile. Helping him up on the couch is a task. He reaches out and grabs a lock of my hair and twists it around his finger. "You remind me of her," he slurs.
Great, he's really drunk.
I set him down on the couch and make my way to the kitchen, where I fill a glass with cool, refreshing water. I return, holding the glass of water in my hand.
"Please, take a sip of this." I hand it to him, and he grasps the cup with both hands, reminiscent of a small child. He lifts the glass to his lips, tilting it back to drain every last drop, before returning it to me with a casual gesture.
"You should get some sleep," I say.
"Will you sleep with me?"
"No, I will not," I mumble.
For the first time ever, I find myself in his room as I take his arm and assist him to his bed. Quite neat and clean, if you ask me. I absolutely adore the view of the city that is seen from a distance.
"Lie down,"
In order to get comfortable, he lies down and places both of his legs on the bed.
It was just as I was about to leave that he grabbed hold of my arm and prevented me from leaving.
"Please, sleep with me," he begs.
Thinking about those loud moans, I shake my head. "No, I can't," I say.
"Please!?" he tries again.
"Goodnight, Jason," I say, walking away from him and shutting his door behind me.
When he wakes up, he will definitely be hit by a severe headache.