It's September and I need a roommate. I couldn't live in the dorms anymore. I was fed up of being paired with idiots. I was done sharing my kitchen and my bathroom with an entire floor. When I signed the lease for my apartment, I did it with the guy...
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It's April and Holt has a girl over. I've never seen her before and the way they're talking, I'm assuming that they've just met. I don't like her. Obviously.
They're settling in the kitchen, but I'm starving and I need to eat food and I also need to make sure he's not going to start kissing her pressed against the fridge. If anyone is making out with Holt against my fridge that'll be me. So I come snooping like the nosy bitch I am. I take my sweet time cutting my vegetables and I make myself rice, but like brown rice in a pot, just to make sure my ass will stay grounded in that kitchen for the next thirty minutes.
They don't seem to care about me in the room though. I think about how they would react if I just wrapped my arms around Holt and then sneaked attacked him and French kissed him grossly, like with waaaaay too much tongue, just for dramatic effect.
They got take out and they're eating at the counter facing each other making googly eyes at each other and he's taking pictures of her and she grabs the phone and looks a the photos and starts whining before Holt takes it out of her hands.
"Oh my god, Holt! Delete that picture! Delete it right now! I look awful!" she says. I'm wondering how Holt would react if I kicked her.
"I like it, you look cute," Holt says, smiling at his phone.
"I look awful, delete it right now, I don't want anyone to see it! It's not a good picture Holt," she tells him sternly and I don't understand how she could talk to him like that. Whenever Holt takes pictures of me, I'm over the fucking moon. And they always look good, or they have an interesting quality to it. They're never bad pictures. That girl doesn't deserve his attention.
She cares about the picture because she probably cares about his instagram. Holt's got a bazillion followers, well a few tens of thousands. Anyway. Bitch probably only wants him to put up a picture of her so she can get five minutes of fame. I know when Holt's put pictures of me I've had weird DMs afterwards. He should probably have put a disclaimer saying HE'S GAY YOUR VAGINAS SCARE HIM!
"Sorry," Holt answers, his shoulder dropping a little.
"Just delete it," she pressed.
He nods. "Alright."
And just when I thought I could hardly hate the girl more, Holt sort of scratches his chest and he's wearing a t-shirt but with the sleeves cut off and when he does it she can sort of see his chest more and so she tells him, "you know, you can go see a doctor to take care of all those moles on your body. They're kind of all over the place. I don't think it would be too expensive! You could totally start like a Go-Fund-Me, or maybe do something on the internet, like showing the whole process of raising the money and then the whole medical stuff. My sister is a dermatologist, I could totally recommend you. Wait, let me get her number for you."
She fishes a card out of her bag and all I'm thinking is that if she came here with her sister's card she probably planned to tell him this. She thought about him removing his freckles and moles.
And Holt just thanks her and says he'll look into it.
I want to punch the girl and I want to punch Holt if he really starts agreeing to that. I've religiously been keeping tabs on his moles, if any of them ever grow and they become like cancerous or something I'll tell him to get them checked, but by god, I hope they never because they're just so god damn endearing.
It's like he has constellations on his body. They're so adorable, it's taking all of my self control not to brush my fingers against them when he's shirtless in the same room as me.
When I was younger, my father used to always kiss my mom on her chest, like not directly on her boobs, but a little above it, and it was always annoying to Eloise and me, like your parents shouldn't be kissing in front of you. Anyway, one time our father said he kissed her there because she had a little mole and it was like his target and I thought that was soooo stupid. Kiss some lips, sure. Kiss a mole, how weird?
Yeah, I totally understand my father now.
When the girl finally leaves and I do a little dance alone in the living room, to thank the gay gods that she didn't stay over for the night, Holt sits on the couch beside me, and he's looking at the card she gave him.
"Holt, you seriously had too many concussions you lunatic," I just tell him out of the blue, keeping my eyes fixed on the TV. It's a renovation show, so I don't really care but the dude in charge is hot, so I keep watching it.
He laughs. "What?"
"You must have had way too many concussions if you think you should be removing your moles. I swear, let's go on your instagram right now. I'm sure you've got a hundred comments saying they're cute."
Holt snorts a laugh again. "So, you think my moles are cute?"
I roll my eyes. No I think they're fucking hot and if you keep laughing I'll have my wicked way with you right on this couch. "No, I said your thousands of followers think they're cute. I don't think you're cute. Not for one second."
He's just smiling at me trying not to laugh. "Oh no?"
I cross my arms over my chest. "Nope. Not cute at all."
He nods, still smiling, still trying not to laugh. "Alright."
