This is strange...
You're aware of that fact, it'd be kind-of hard not to be aware of it. You won't claim to be the smartest most logical person on God's green Earth, in fact the only thing you'd really claim to be is the most damn beautiful alcoholic ever created, BUT even you can admit to things that make sense. This is not one of those things. None of any of this makes any sort of sense.
For starters, you can count ON ONE HAND the number of times you have taken a near-complete-stranger home with YOU. The other way around? Yeah that's happened a couple times. Like probably a lot of them. Mama's got an itch, it needs to be scratched, simple as that. But this is quite literally the second time you have ever allowed another person into your home that you met that night. It's unheard of; you don't trust people, fucking sue you but you don't.
Secondly, she actually stayed the night. And maybe it's been a while since you've participated in an ONS (one night stand) but you would swear there's an unspoken rule about leaving in the morning. Or before the morning. You wouldn't claim to be an expert, but that's usually what you did. There was only one time you'd gone against that unspoken rule and in the morning his girlfriend had tried to smother you with a pillow.
Seems she hadn't liked that not only were you a much better fuck, but you were much better looking too.
Sour grapes taste like garbage I bet.
And the final thing. The final thing that made it one of the strangest experiences to date... that was the fact that she stayed to make breakfast AND coffee. Like, on Elsa's list of top ten panty dropping things NUMBER ONE - fucking make you some food. (and coffee) You were a caffeine-addicted fat kid at heart, and she, she made the food spicy.
Which was the moment you had to stop yourself from asking her to marry you. It was so hot you had tears in your eyes. And she was mostly naked and her body... Like, fucking fuck. You try to recall asking her what she did. But you never asked her that because you are selfish and you were drunk and you wanted to ride her face. What you DO remember is finding out that she had a cock. And being totally calm about it.
Maybe for half a second you were confused, but then the fact you've dated a handful of trans people before soothed your confusion and reminded you that the dick was hard and your pussy was wet.
Maybe I'd have more friends if I was less vulgar...
But she's hot. And beautiful. And you agreed in the most roundabout way you could to go on a date with her because you were chomping at the bit to but you are Elsa, damnit. You are too fucking cool to act like a squealing, love sick banshee fangirl. You are cool and spicy. You are awesome. You got this.
"So I suppose I should get out of here..." You bite your tongue. The most overwhelming urge to make her stay struck you. Be cool, cool like ice. Cooler than cool like ice cold. Absolute Kelvin up in this bitch.
"I suppose," you sound as excited about the prospect of her leaving as you are. Which is not at all. She smiles, forcing your own scowl to retreat, if momentarily.
"Awww, grumpy cat is grumpy," she coos at you. You roll your eyes. She's easy to be around. Which is a remarkable thing to say, for you, because you dislike most people. You barely like your friends. Kristy is an exception, but still.
I change my mind. I'd have more friends if I was nice n shit.
Which is laughable. You're content with your social circle, mostly because it's too damn much energy you'll waste trying to build a new or bigger one.
"I can kick you out, you know," you warn her. But it's an empty threat, and wether or not she's aware of it she only smiles anyway.
"Won't be the first time," she chuckles. "Can I at least get dressed first?" And then you laugh, because inexplicably you imagine this beautiful stranger running ass naked out of some faceless person's apartment.
"I'll think about it," you offer with a grin and wink. For a moment she looks horrified, something in her eyes flashes, you read it as, Oh God please not again. And you laugh once more, but harder. Now you almost want to keep playing along, but you've broken character again so it's too late. She sighs, in relief, and slumps down.
"I almost thought you were serious!" She slaps a hand to her bare chest, over her, you assume rapidly, beating heart. "I mean once was bad enough, but a fourth time...!" And you'll probably stop laughing sometime soon. After you stop choking on the sip of coffee that's about to come shooting out of your nose. Which, like, fucking ow.
"I-I-" still laughing, but it's calming slightly, you wheeze out Oh fuck, And wipe a tear from your eye. "I almost was. FOUR fucking times?"
"It's NOT funny!"
"No, it's fucking hilarious!" And her pout is so ridiculous and exaggerated you crack up. Again. How much fucking alcohol did you put in this cup? And you don't laugh, not like this, never this often, but it must be infectious because she shakes her head slowly, and then she's laughing too. And you both kinda just do that for a bit.
She's so easy to be around. She's like Kristy in that regard. The difference between the two, of course, being that you don't really want to ride Kristy's face. Plus she seems to read you about as easily as you read her. Which is terrifying, but intriguing. She's much smarter than she lets on, which you appreciate. You put up with exactly no amount of idiocy.
Maybe you're full of yourself - and you are. Yeezus wishes he was full of you - but you are too God damn intelligent to put up with that sort. You refuse.
"The first time I actually deserved it," she admits eventually. "But the other two were NOT my fault."
"Oh, I'm sure they weren't. Innocent angel like you? Nah, couldn't have been your fault at all." Sarcasm tastes like sugar on your lips. Or maybe that's the vodka.
You feel exactly no shame for convincing one last round of good - but most importantly, sober - fucking out of your dear guest before you let her slip out of your apartment. The excuse, not that you'd needed one but it did feel better to have one, had been that you both needed a shower, and you obviously needed someone to wash your back for you.
Which, of course, loosely translated into you asking her to bend you over and fuck you sideways, but in a shower setting. And she was damn good at that. Seriously, she was fit. She'd told you that she was a bouncer when you asked what she could possibly do to need to stay that fit, and that had been a lie but if it had been the truth it would've made a lot of sense.
"If it was a lie, why are so calm about it?" The first person to show up at your doorstep looking for answers had been Kristy. Because you'd never answered any of the texts she'd sent you last night to let her know you made it home safe. On purpose. You knew her well, knew she'd be showing up, and knew you'd want someone to swoon over your departed companion with.
"I think she's a spy," it sounded as ridiculous out loud as it had in your head. "She could be Stan Smith, and in which case would be obligated to lie about her job."
"She must be really attractive," is what Kristy says, but her eye roll speaks louder. It says, she must have fucked you real good, which is also true. And Kristy would know, you'd just forced her to listen to all the dirty details.
"Yes, but she's not more attractive than me," which was an important thing to you. Some people didn't want to date someone taller or younger or smarter than they were, you didn't like to date people hotter than you are. It was your thing. And everyone had one. Some had more than one.
"Not many people are more attractive than you, to be fair," you smile at your reflection in the mirror. Blow kisses. Damn straight they aren't. "So you're just going to go out with her, then?"
What she means by that is, blah blah judgement blah blah you're better than this blah blah I only say this because I love you. But she also knows you won't listen if she goes on one of those long winded, well meaning rants she's so fond of mother hen-ing you and you're group of friends with.
She means well... You just don't particularly give a shit all that much. You are first last and loudest to admit your own brand of selfish bitch.
"Listen," you start as you spin around on your stool. Your vanity is classy as shit, the stool is useful and necessary. "I need you to understand something -I don't do this shit. I'm too old and smart to do this shit. You think I don't know better? You think I'm not second guessing myself?" As you spoke you slipped off your stool, stepping over to her. You hold her chin, lightly shake it for emphasis,
"Think AGAIN!" She swats your hand away. You back up, grinning. She tries not to return it, but succumbs to the power of your mirth. So she chuckles and you grin wider and turn back around to study your reflection and make certain your image is that of perfection. It is.
"I like her," you admit, softly, eyes tracing down to your feet, and your painted toe nails. A sparkling blue. Like your eyes. "A lot." It's got to be insane, slightly terrified laughter that bubbles up and out of your mouth in the form of a subdued chuckle. "I guess I'm giving her a chance to tell me the truth."
"And that's more than you'll do for most people," it's light and airy. She's teasing you and you appreciate her attempt to take the pressure off of those words. So you wink, playfully,
"That's right, sweet cheeks," and you both laugh. And then,
"But I don't care how fit she is, or what secret job she might have, she hurts you and I'll rip out her still beating heart, then make her eat it." You try not laugh, because you know she's serious. But you do.
"I'll make sure to tell her that."
So has anyone seen that movie, Still Alice? I wanted to see it originally because Kristen Bae Stewart is in it... But nobody warned me the title was really only just short for "Rip out my still beating heart, Alice"
And one last thing - if you really think Anna is g!p for the purposes of sex and smut, THINK A-FUCKING-GAIN. I won't claim to be a fucking scientist but REALLY I'm not such a simple gal.
Kay thanks, all of this was written to OutKast's ATLiens album. I love y'all, have a lovely lovely day wherever you, and if you aren't having a lovely day punch someone in the face, as long as they deserve it. Forgive mistakes, BYEEEE!