Time passes slowly. The light from a streetlight outside shines through a crack in the curtain and once my eyes adjust to the dark, I realize I can sort of see him from where I’m sleeping. He’s moving around a lot, trying to find a good position. I don’t know how tall he is, but he has to be about six feet. That couch looks more suited for me than him.
I giggle to myself, watching him struggle. He kinda deserves it for teasing me.
“What’s so funny?” he asks in a whisper.
“You.”
“Me?”
“Is that couch comfy? It sure seems like it from over here.”
“It’s fine.”
It’s quiet for a second. I sigh and pull the covers back from the bed. I stand and feel my way over to him. “You take the bed. The couch looks more my size.”
“No. No way. You gave me your bed, now you get mine.”
“You’ll never sleep if you stay here and neither will I because you move a lot. And loudly.”
“I will not have you sleep on the couch.”
“God, you’re stubborn!” I whisper-shout.
“Hi pot, meet kettle,” he says with a snicker.
“Fine. Struggle.” I huff my way back to his bed.
“Nice legs,” he whispers.
“Shut up. It’s dark. You can’t see shit.”
“Oh, I can see plenty. I also know you’re wearing a black thong.”
“What the…? You’re horrible. I cannot wait for this night to be over so I can stop pretending to like you.”
“You’re not pretending. Youdolike me.”
“Actually, right now, I hate you.”
“You could never hate me.”
“Wanna bet?”
He’s suddenly quiet and he doesn’t move. A few minutes pass and I feel bad. “Fine, I don’t hate you.”
He doesn’t speak. “Finn?” I ask in a whisper.
Did he fall asleep that quickly? He couldn’t have. Could he? I lie there for a few seconds before I pull back the covers and tiptoe over to him. This time, pulling down his t-shirt as I walk.
“Finn?” I question a bit louder.
I lean down to see if he’s breathing. He’s not. “Finn?” I almost shout, placing my hands on his chest. He grabs ahold of me and scares the shit out of me.
“Dammit!” I yell.
“Shh…” he whispers through a laugh as I struggle to get away.
“Don’t do that.”
