Little Doe leans against the frame of the door, dressed in a long T-shirt and a pair of basic-ass panties. It's not supposed to be sexy, but she is — without trying.
"What's this about? I was taking a nap." She huffs, her chest moves up and down, nipples straining against worn cotton. I take my eyes off her tits and focus on her face. She's lying because she doesn't even look sleepy, her makeup still perfect around her eyes.
"I'm wounded, Doe." I said, tucking some of her wild hair behind her ear.
"Wounded?"
"I asked you to stay over, and woke up alone." I shrug.
"I did stay over."
"Thought you'd be in a slightly better mood, considering last night's activities."
"You want to come in? Or do this in the hallway?"
I step inside and frown as I take in her studio. It's so fucking small, decorated so poorly that it makes my soul hurt. This doesn't reflect who she is as a person — a firecracker, a snarky ass bitch that makes my blood pump a little faster. It's generic, cheap and nothing like her.
"So?" She leans her ass against a small, rectangular table that could do with a fresh layer of paint.
"Wanna go do laundry with me?" I ask her, dropping my bag on the table.
"Laundry?" Her eyebrows lift high as she takes a good look at the plastic bag, fingering the flimsy handles. "That's what you want to do? What you came here for?" She questions me.
"No, but it was a good enough reason to come up here." Little Doe doesn't even smile, she glares. I want to know what got her into this shitty mood. She's like a different person.
"How the fuck did you find my address, anyway?" She bounces herself off the edge of the table and walks to the kitchenette. I hear ceramic clunk together before the smell of coffee hits. She pours two mugs while I watch her ass in black panties that have a pink heart on the back. There's red streaks in the shape of my hand and I smirk.
"I know a lot of things, little Doe." I chuckle.
She narrows her eyes at me, licks her lips before she hands me a mug. I feel her eyes on my face, looking for something. It's like I can hear the wheels turning in her head.
"You can just do it, you know." She spits out, sneering.
My brows furrow, because I don't know what she fuck's got her panties all up in a bunch.
"Do what?"
"It's okay, Masen. I had my last hurrah with you last night and the best fucking sex in my entire life. You've punished me enough by now."
"What the fuck are you on about? Punished you?"
"You've shown me what it could be like. Life." She walks over to her bed and fumbles around between the hundreds of pillows there.
"Here. Do it." She puts down her mug of coffee, untouched and grabs my free hand, turning it over.
My face grows hot as my heart is thumping fast— too fucking fast when I see what she's done.