"Christian, Christian, Christian! Dudeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee" My brother screams frantically from my doorway, his voice a combination of drunken glee and intoxication, my duvet unable to conceal his begging.
"Megumi, get out of here. I have to get some rest!" I sharply retort. Megumi has always been the life of the group, in the sense that he is the physical embodiment of a party: boisterous, lively, colorful, and thrilling. He's always had an enticing aura about him, capturing the hearts of many innocent, gullible girls who part their legs like Moses did the sea. Exceptional brother.
Outstanding pal. Outstanding sportsperson. He is their boyfriend for the whole four days.
"Oh, and could you please turn down the volume on your music...too it's loud." I leap to my feet, grab a cushion, and wrap it around my ears, meeting the fuzzy gaze of my stumbling older brother.
Sibling. He walks away with a smile and a grin, closing my door and restoring the room's relative quiet. The only indication he was there was the lingering odor of alcohol.
Resisting the music, I bury myself in my duvet, its warmth embracing my body - the only thing hugging my body at all these days, sadly. My heavy eyes are at odds with my rumbling bladder. I swing back and forth between sleep-heaven and batting my way to the bathroom, waging a quiet fight in my head about whether I should keep it in or whether I should get up. I slip out of my blanket and make my way to the en suite, sacrificing my warmth.
I take off my pyjama bottoms, pull down my jocks, target, and enjoy the sweet feeling of urination. People say alcohol and sex are both fine, but what about pissing?
My eyes scan over my reflection in the mirror as I yawn and begin my nighttime routine. My hazel bed hair is in desperate need of attention. I finish my nighttime routine by hopping under the boiling stream of the shower head, cleaning my body of the day's tension and grime.
As soon as I get out of the tub, I dry off and change into my nightgown, primed and ready for a good night's sleep. I roll into my covers after lifting my duvet and wrapping myself in the cool side of the room. My arms slowly trail over my soft cotton duvets as I starfish. My hand collides with something or something, my eyes pop open, and my sense of security is broken.
"Get out of my bed, Megumi! Go to your room!" I shove his muscular shoulder, and he lets out a soft groan. Is that a groan? I raise the blanket to expose a body; it's the body of a stranger. SHITT
My gaze is paid down the smooth back of the complete stranger, who has a light wash of sparse white hairs, sharp shoulder blades, and sturdy arms. I softly poke his back with my finger, eliciting another groan until his gentle snores come to a halt.
I decide to take a different approach and shake his arm instead, which turns out to be a terrible idea.As I plummet to the floor, his body twists, grabbing my wrist and yanking me over him.
"Aghhhhhh! My hip takes the brunt of the force, and the thud sounds as heavy as it feels. My glare is met by green orbs as it travels towards the bed, hypnotizing me. As he props himself up on his forearm to familiarize himself with his surroundings, his eyelashes flutter in bewilderment.
"You shouldn't poke strangers; I thought you were going to attack me... Are you all right?" The elongation of his o's contrasts with my own New York accent, and his raspy voice struggles to conceal a vague Italian accent.
"Agh...you're in my bed...but I'm fine" I lie, hoping that my tone conveys my mood well enough.
As the night's cold air pierces my skin, bringing goosebumps down my back, my arms curl around my torso.
"Oh fu*k, I have no idea how I got here."
'It's fine, don't worry-" My voice comes to a halt in the middle of a sentence as my hand brushes up against a white pair of Calvin Klein briefs next to a cotton shirt. "Please tell me these aren't your clothes underneath me." I beg in a desperate tone, and he responds with a large grin and a light chuckle, life filling his green orbs as his laughter warms his face.
"I'm sorry...but I've slept nak*d for the majority of my life!" He responds in a cheeky tone; an irritating Italian tone. I scoff and pull my hand away from his underwear.
"Dogs sleep nak*d, no one yells at dogs...the what's big problem?"
"Dogs, like you, lick their bums and sleep outside, so you should be fine sleeping outside. Also, it's fucking cold...so...bye..."
His eyes flutter once more, the green orbs hidden behind light brown lashes adorned with a playful gleam. He tilts his head, his gaze moving up and down my huddled body.
"Well, there's still plenty of room under the blankets if you want to sleep in here with me." He pats the spot beside him. Is he really inviting me to sleep in my own bed?
"First, get out of my bed. I'd rather sleep on the floor than in my own bed with some random stranger." I lay down casually on the carpet, its softness failing to distract me from the coldness of Spring—even in a completely new season, the chill of winter litters its chill.
"Well, that's just stupid." From above, he mutters, the bed dipping as he pulls the duvet off of him and rolls his legs over. He's magnificent; his body is chiseled like Greek sculptures and toned with incredible smoothness.
I close my eyes as they try to lower themselves and look at something they shouldn't.
A pair of hands slips under my shoulder, and I'm lifted into the air, colliding with his chest.
Instinctively, I wrap my arms around his neck and cling to him; the warmth from his body radiates through me, warming me.