It took real effort on Mark's part not to start changing things. Roxanne had said she liked his apartment as it was. The red plastic cups and the collection of other women's bobby pins and hair ties. Even before, when she had been incapable of admitting that she liked him (he knew better, even then) she freely admitted to liking his apartment.
Still, it had been four days since she 'assaulted' him in the park. Four days since they innocently fell asleep in his bed after making out like high schoolers for a solid hour. Mark's pants got a little tight just thinking about it. Just a little though, he wasn't a high schooler, after all.
Since then she had come by the bar twice after work, but they both went home alone. He knew better than to push her too fast after making a bit of progress. They had kissed and fondled in one of the more secluded corners of the bar, away from the prying eyes of the weekday crowd. Tonight they had an actual date.
A real, pre-planned, totally legit date. Adult stuff. It would consist of ordering in from Irazu and flipping through Netflix arguing over what to watch. It was going to be glorious.
If everything went according to his meticulous plan, she would either storm out and they would have to start over from square one, or Roxanne would, for the second time, end up in his bed. Maybe with more than a little over-the-clothes petting this time.
It was this prospect, having Roxanne in his bed, that was giving him pause. He stood in his bedroom contemplating the particular arrangement of elements. The bed was in the middle of the room. Ok, standard. There were two end tables, one at each side. Perfectly normal. The thing was, the had random assorted crap on both the the bedside tables. Half read books and briefly glanced at magazines made up most of the clutter. There was a water bottle on one and a strange turtle shaped paperweight on the other. A stack of cardboard coasters with random doodles had been knocked over and scattered over the magazines. Both sides where just crammed with crap.
If Roxanne didn't mind the other idiosyncratic of his apartment, it was unlikely that she would even pay attention to the way he had territoriality spread out across the available surfaces. After all, this was his apartment and his crap. It was small and messy compared to her place. Well, not that messy in comparison since Lily had moved in. Roxanne had become increasingly tolerant of Lily's habits.
Still, the scene in front of him was...troubling. It seemed off balance. Not like his crap would tumble over onto the floor. No, he was sure that the arrangement of items was structurally sound. If anything, the two nightstands were totally balanced. They both had an equal distribution of his crap, even if the specifics of his crap differed. Come on, like he would have two dumb-ass turtle paperweights. One was fine by him.
Mark stood at the end of his bed, contemplating his nightstands until his buzzer went off.
Roxanne.
He panicked, opened the drawer in the nightstand closest to the door (Roxanne had laid on that side, last time) and scooted most everything that had been on top of the table into the drawer. He slammed it shut with a satisfying clunk just before the buzzer went off a second time.
That would have to do, for now.
