Sexts → Gerard Piqué

Gerard

This chapter might or might not be boring, sorry.
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I was waiting.

I waited.

Then I waited for ten more minutes– there was no reply. Even my large-sized pizza was down my gut (that took a long time), yet my bare torso– yes torso, because I am not sending pictures of my genitals yet– received no compliment, or remark for instance.

Did I make a mistake? Did I send something wrong?

Or, on a second thought, did I possibly compel her into unconsciousness out of extreme enticement?

I tried to convince myself that my second thought was likely to be true— my body was toned, cut and perfectly shaped; altogether, edible. There was no reason for her to leave me on read.

I groaned and tossed my phone aside, and drifted off to sleep, probably in a minute or two.

•••

Waking up was the worst decision; or action, of my life— I opened my eyes, letting the wobbly feeling sink in. That's what you feel every morning when you work hard from eight to six; sometimes a few extra hours, for students who don't even offer the slightest bit of respect to you.

My neck ached and my backbone felt like it was going to break off any soon— I wanted to lie down, on my own bed.

Too bad, the hag had already occupied it.

It was six thirty in the morning by my watch– I wasn't late; I'm never late. I fumbled about for my phone that I had stationed somewhere around, the previous night.

After ten minutes of thorough search, I gave up— my phone had miraculously disappeared.

At first, I thought it was Núria– but, wasn't she supposed to be asleep? As far as I am concerned, she stays in bed until ten in the morning.

After a lengthy, hot shower, that partially drained my stress away, I clothed myself before stuttering to the dining table for breakfast— to find my phone resting on top.

What? How?

I did not have to think long; my hell of a fiancé appeared from behind, (almost scaring the living soul out of me) and placed the round bowl that she was holding next to the cellular device.

"Your breakfast," she spoke calmly. One on one, she had poisoned it— hadn't she?

"Why are you up so early?" I asked. I had to. "Don't you like my presence?" She shot a question back.

No, I don't.

"I didn't mean that." I wasn't in the mood to talk to her, and that's exactly what she was making me do.

"Did– did you keep my phone here?" I asked. This woman was going to hell if she told me that she had checked it.

"Yep," she answered, popping the 'p'. How very annoying.

"Why?" I asked.

"Why did you take such a picture of yourself?" Alright, then.

"What picture?" I asked. She shot me an incredulous look, before grasping the device and swiftly typing..my password?

How the hell did she discover my password?

After two more seconds of constant tapping, she gyrated the screen towards me, presenting a picture of my naked torso before me. Like I didn't know.

"You checked my phone?" With one, swift move, I snatched the device away from her, whilst squinting my eyes.

"Yes." She was confident– oh, how much I felt the urge to strangle the vixen.

"Why?" I demanded. "Because I don't trust you," she replied.

Splendid. Were we even in a relationship?– I mean, I see strangers; particularly men vacating my house almost every two nights. She called them 'friends'– friends who leave behind empty packets of condoms in my dustbin.

"What?" I exhaled, trying to gulp down my anger. "Yes," she continued. "I feel like you're cheating on me. I mean, look at you– you don't look the type to–"

"You cannot be serious," I rolled my eyes at the lass.

"I am serious!" Her tone elevated all of a sudden, almost making me jump. What was happening?

"You're cheating on me, aren't you?" She was yelling now– the crocodile tears had welled up at the brim of her eyes.

"Where did that come from?" I groaned, hesitating to tell her the truth.

"Why did you take that picture then?" Her voice softened; her drama being at it's peak position.

"Because, I like my body?" I shook my head, watching as her facial expression softened– probably realising the way she had sounded like an imbecile.

Her sobs did not stop though– in all probability, she was expecting a hug from me; followed by a kiss and then, sex.

Too bad, she was getting none.

I shook my head, before hustling upstairs; henceforth leaving the scene. My bed was untidy– the sight of which made me scrunch my nose up in annoyance. Why was I compelled to live with such a lady?

Grasping my backpack, and my keys, I raced downstairs; completely blocking out the woman who had utterly ruined the early hours of one of my tiresome weekdays.

•••

School was awful; it's not like I had expected it to be any better— and you know what's the worst part? It had already been over fifteen hours and Jackie hadn't replied yet.

I kept checking my phone every now and then to receive nothing but sheer disappointment.

At the end of the day, frustrated, I decided to give up on her. After all, she was just a stranger— hell, I did not even know how she looked like.

I shoved my phone inside my bag, rougher than intended before reaching for my belongings; as a ping made me pause.

I quickly grasped the cellular device— it wasn't Jackie; it couldn't be.

JackieA_ : Sorry daddy my phone broke :( but you're sexy as hell ;)