No Ownage of characters. And, yes, am very aware that 'ownage' is not a word.
Sunday, October 21
Weight: 135, Cigarettes: 1, Alcohol Units: None
12:15pm:
Just woke up. Grabbed diary as I opened drawer to grab pen. Hmmm…must use one of Mark's pens. Very nice pen. A little heavy. This is good. Will burn calories while I write with very heavy pen.Mark, of course, has gone to work. He works every Sunday. Not sure I like this idea, but what can I do. Really is the one thing about him that I don't like.
He never has a day off!
12:30pm:
Have noticed I am wearing one of Mark's shirts. Yum…still smells like him. It is a smart smell. Clean and smart.Looking further down my body I notice that knickers are gone.
Oh God…wonder what we did last night. Jesus…wonder what I said.
1:05pm:
Have taken shower which has made me feel sexy. Made sure to shave all the right places. Seemed I was growing a large weed garden in certain area of body.Poor Mark. Really wonder what he sees in me.
Am now going to make sensible brunch, while reading one of Mark's law books. Must grab dictionary on way to kitchen. Usually end up reading dictionary instead of book.
Bugger!
2:00pm:
Have found myself staring out window. Do wonder how Mark can read these books. Very boring. Have succeeded in reading one page, but have no bloody idea what it said.Phone has brought me back to my senses. It seems to be ringing.
"Hello?" I say a bit unsurely. Really don't feel comfortable answering Mark's phone. Very scared it might be one of his annoying friends who really don't like me very much. This is mostly because of what Natasha has told people.
"Bridget?" it is Mark, "How are you?"
Hmmm…feels like he is asking me this question while looking over my head. Or over his phone.
"Fine…um…did we do anything last night?" I worry into the phone.
There is a long, horrible pause where I am sure he is deciding what to tell me.
"No, actually you were talking in your sleep. Said something about your knickers being terribly dirty." There is another long pause, and then, "I took your clothes to be cleaned this morning."
Oh God…just the fact that he took my nasty knickers to the cleaners. I am now very sure that the cleaners will tell Mark to go elsewhere. Probably burn my knickers.
"Oh, thank you." I say, falling ever more deeply in love with him, "Um…are you coming home soon?"
"Five." He says lightly.
"Right." I say, "Okay…um…"
"I love you." He says softly.
"Yes, well, I love you too. Very much really." I say, "I really…"
Click. Hmmm…sometimes he reminds me of a kidnapped man. Natasha holding him at work all day so that I can't spend any time with him at all.
5:00pm:
Am in bathroom staring at my little face in the mirror. How the hell did I get such awfully white teeth? Really must look at mum and dads teeth to see if it runs in the family. Strange thing teeth are really.Knock on door startles me out of my teeth wondering session. I open door to see Mark standing there with roses. He smiles lightly.
"For me?" I ask lightly.
"No." he says in his very serious way, "I just thought I would show them to you. Now I will go give them to my other girlfriend."
Very smart assed man really.
"Oh," I shrug, "that's fine. Hopefully she will be horribly jealous that I saw them first."
"Yes," he says with a small smile on his lips, "um…I suppose it wouldn't hurt if you were to keep them here. Maybe she can come by and look at them."
I smile and kiss his lips, "That is a very good idea sir."
6:10pm:
Am in kitchen with very fine cook. He is cooking and I am writing in this diary. He looks at what I am writing."Are you writing about what a handsome devil I am?" he asks, "Dashing smile and such."
"Um…no. Am writing about what a complete ego maniac you are."
He is making spaghetti with those lovely hands of his. Those hands make me feel so well protected. But, as if in some sort of horrible time warp, those hands could also hurt me. Must stop watching serial killer shows. Hmmm…hope he isn't reading this over my shoulder.
Still, must ask him…
"Are you a serial killer, Mr. Darcy?" I ask. He gives me a look as he is mixing the sauce.
"What?"
"Well, I just want to be prepared. I mean, if you mean to kill me I really want to know. See," I thoughtfully pull my legs up onto the chair, "your really very nice and perfect. So, I was watching this show the other night and this guy on there was very wonderful and then he killed his wife. When will you be killing me? I really must prepare."
He is shaking his head. Must think I am mad.
"Actually, I was thinking of killing you tonight. May strangle you with spaghetti." He eyes me lightly, "Or did you have a better idea?"
I think about it, "Well, around what time will this occur? I mean, I really must look my best if I am to be murdered tonight."
He is now leaned over in the fridge. Must say that he has a fantastic ass. Really want to get up…
"Nine-ish…wouldn't want to ruin dinner." He says as he pulls wine from the door.
"That's a good time. I'll go for that. Just don't let me become a 'Cold Case File'. I mean, don't get caught or anything, but…well…just don't let me end up on that show."
"Yes, well, you would look very skeletal and all. Wouldn't be very sexy I suppose." He is now pouring us a drink.
Hands me drink as he smiles lightly at me. Do wonder if he has every looked at any other woman the way that he looks at me.
"Cheers." I say and then drink it down like some sort of drunken asshole.
9:30pm:
Only had that one drink tonight. Very well done. I must remember to pat myself on the back soon.Mark is in shower. He said that he would postpone killing me tonight because the spaghetti wasn't the right kind. Must remember to remind him to buy the thicker type next time. Must avoid angel hair thin stuff.
Serial killer has just come out of the bathroom, drying his hair with a towel. He has on his very serious looking pajamas. They are blue, with white stripes. Sort of like a pin-stripped suit. Anyway…who cares. He looks dashing as always.
"Reading my law books again?" he quires as I thump my pen on the open pages of his book, "Find anything interesting?"
"Actually," I say, and make a note to myself to buy some glasses. That way…will look smarter while reading his books, "I am very interested in this one. Seems that I didn't have to use the dictionary as much."
"Oh?" he looks amused, "Which one is it?"
"Um…" haven't really looked at the title, must remember to write these title's down so as I won't look like complete ass when said love interest asks very important questions, "this." I lift the book up and show him the cover.
"Right, well…" he gets into bed, "that one is my favorite."
He throws said favorite book on floor.
"Yes, I can see that is your favorite book."
His hands are now touching all the right places. Must censor this part of the day. But, in time, will think about it much.
Serial killers shouldn't have such wonderful hands.
