I sit on the living room's floor crisscrossed, waiting for Christian to get home. I'm stuck thinking about what my subconscious tried forcing me to do earlier. Confess? Isn't it too early to confess? We met a couple days ago, I can't just confess to him! I sigh and fall backwards until I hear the hard thud of my body meeting the floor. Maybe a little Kung Fu Panda will get my mind off things.
I get myself off of the floor and crawl to the DVD player Christian set up. As I grab the disk, I hear giggling outside of the house. It's a woman's giggle and it sounds as if she's flirting with someone. Aw, how cute! I want to see it! I crawl to the front door and stand up to look out the peek hole. I stand there for moments, looking at what I didn't expect. Christian's outside necking the giggling woman and isn't given the thought of stopping.
I continue to stand behind the door with my mouth slightly open. I close my eyes and reopen them, only to find my subconscious on her knees begging for forgiveness. I mentally push her out of my way and swing open the door. The bitch doesn't stop giggling even though she sees me, she just tones it down. Christian doesn't even look at me, he just continues to give her hickeys. Anger runs throughout my body as the two ignore me.
Christian finally opens his eyes and looks at me. A smirk appears on his face before he almost falls down. The wench that was giggling grabs him and picks him up.
"Excuse me," she says as she comes into our house. Who does she thinks she is?! She can't just walk into someone else's house! Who is she anyways?
She sits him on the couch and unbuttons his shirt. "Goodnight, Christian. Thanks for showing me a wonderful time." She walks towards the door and stops in her tracks when we share eye contact. "You're the new help?"
Help? Help?! I'm his future wife, not the damn help! Do I look like I'm a maid? I'm in his clothes for crying out loud! I shake my head and hold open the door for her.
"Oh," she mumbles, "that's too bad. You could've been of more use than the doorkeeper." She strolls out of our house and I slam the door behind her. Bitch.
I look over at Christian. He's staring at me with those hypnotic hazel eyes. Why is he looking at me like that after I just witnessed him and that floozy make out? I walk over to him and sit on the couch. We stare at each other for a moment before I catch the scent of booze and high, classy perfume. Is he drunk?
He burps before speaking to me, then wipes his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt. "Ana...," he mumbles. "Come closer."
"Closer?" I repeat, he nods his head and smirks. I shift uncomfortably and scoot closer.
"You're...very beautiful," he whispers before passing out. Yup, he's definitely drunk, my inner self rings.
"Thanks, but no, thanks," I say as I get off the couch and make my way to my bedroom.
Confess? Confess to a possibly two-timing womanizer? Nice try, inner Ana. But I'm not going to make an ass of myself. I've had enough for tonight. I don't want to be around Christian while he's like that. I'll wait until tomorrow to speak with him; when he's sober. Out the corner of my eye, I spot my subconscious in her knees, begging for my forgiveness. I roll all four of my eyes at her and throw myself into bed, hoping the feelings I have for Christian will be carried away with the wind from my open window.