Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
2 months later
I type away at my laptop, mindlessly. University had started up again, and I was overcrowded with work. As for my studies, I had chosen to study finance, and business. Honestly, it's not too hard, but I've never been allowed to slack in my studies, considering Mom was rather hard on me growing up.
Dad wasn't so hard on me. Fact, alot of my memories of him consisted of things more fun and enjoyable. For example, we'd go on long bike rides and he'd buy me ice cream after school everyday in the summer.
Making sure Mom didn't catch on, of course.
I do miss him, immensely.
I also miss Tiago.
I mean he is sexy as fuck, and any sane person sees that, so I don't think I'm weird for liking him as much as I do. Ever since I moved out, I haven't seen Mom or Tiago that much. Neither, have a exactly remained in contact with Furosa.
I moved out so I'm closer to the site of the University, and it's very convenient. Also, a lot more of my friends live in this area.
Saving the document, I close my laptop, and head into the kitchen, craving something to eat. I end up grabbing a bowl of cereal, heading back to my bedroom.
As I walk through the apartment, I realise how messy it had become; I had definitely become much more lazier than before. Though, it doesn't faze me and I just continue to go to my room.
The place was decorated to a minimum, and truthfully not much effort had been put in as I moved into he place. I think I had the intent to add more furnishings and decorations, but never got around to it.
Sitting down, I turn on my IPad and put a movie on, feeling relaxed.
●
I'm awoken, as I feel a cold liquid running down my arm, leaving me in a mess. I stir, and quickly realise that the bowl had tipped over. Annoyed, I remove the damp shirt, and throw into the wash basket. I pull of the wet bedsheet, and sigh.
Luck wasn't on my side today, it seemed.
Replacing the spoiled sheet, I go and put the other one in the wash, before heading into the bathroom. I wipe of the milk from my forearm, and go back out.
I'm interrupted by the harsh knock of the front door, and it only gets more repetitive. Frustrated, I yank the door open, and mentally cringe when I see whose on the other side.
