Eros415: Just as I suspected. You’ve been corrupted.
BiteSizedGabi: How do you know I’m not the one who corrupted you?
Eros415: That would imply that I was good once. Not likely.
BiteSizedGabi: I’ll have to take your word for it. Thank you for the cherries…and the invitation.
Eros415: Is that a yes, then?
BiteSizedGabi: Enthusiastic yes.
Eros415: Devil emoji. I left something for you in the fridge. Beppe has already had his breakfast (though he’ll tell you otherwise) and a walk.
I glance at the snoring Chihuahua at the end of the bed. No wonder he’s not rearing to go.
BiteSizedGabi: Should I be concerned that my dog ventures off with you so willingly?
Eros415: You should be more concerned that you do the same thing. Letting strange masked men into your bedroom? Honestly, Gabi, it’s a little deranged.
BiteSizedGabi: Says the man who encourages it.
I slip on a bathrobe and pad down to the kitchen. In the fridge, I find another parfait from my favorite bakery—this time with cherries.
BiteSizedGabi: Sensing a theme here.
He sends me back a Ghostface meme that reads: I love it when we’re on a date, but only one of us knows it.
BiteSizedGabi: I should not be smiling at that.
Eros415: And yet you are.
A shiver moves through me as I glance around, as if he could actually see me. I don’t know why the idea of that gives me dark butterflies instead of the creeps. There’s something seriously wrong with me.
Maybe I am a little deranged.
I sit at the breakfast bar, eat the parfait, and plan my day. Now that I have the quiet of the penthouse to work in, I’ve been able to get ahead on my senior collection, and I want to keep up the momentum. It’s so much easier when I’m not distracted bythe chaos in the classroom, and if I could, I would just do the bulk of my work here.
I spend some time chasing up that idea by pricing out drafting tables, fabric racks, and design tools, and adding them to a Pinterest board. It’s more of a dream than anything, because I can’t afford all the things I’d need to work from here entirely. Though truthfully, if I could have done the program virtually, I would have preferred that. I work better alone, in silence, when I have complete concentration.
When I’m finished trying to manifest an entire studio, I take a shower and start getting ready for the day. A quick glance at my phone alerts me to two new messages from Eros.
Eros415: OOTD pic.
Eros415: Wear the white socks.
BiteSizedGabi: Is this a new kink?
Eros415: My kink is you.
My heart does a little flip in my chest before I tell myself I need to calm down. I cannot get attached to this guy.
Still, that doesn’t stop me from going to my closet in search of the infamous white socks. I know he’s been stalking my Instagram, so he’s referring to the thigh-high knit socks. I pair them with a pink skirt, a cherry-printed cardigan, and a red beret. When I snap a picture and send it, I receive two replies within seconds.
Eros415: System Preferences Updated: Pink is my new favorite color.
Eros415: I’m going to peel those off you tonight.
BiteSizedGabi: You could come peel them off now.
