Mr. Stinky

I felt a rustle in the blankets. I felt the weight of the other side of the memory foam mattress go from a medium level to nothing at all. When I finally heard the creaky metal bed frame, my body shifted and I turned, knowing that the blinds of my window were open. I wanted to protect my eyes from the golden light that seemed to make her hair shine.

Her - I loved her. I still love her. And she was leaving, but not for good. Just until she could straighten things out with her parents, so I could be with her - she promised.

I opened my eyes very slightly. "Good morning, muffin."

I heard her chuckle as she slipped on her white jeans, her black underwear disappearing forever.  She smiled as she turned around and looked at me, grabbing her gray t-shirt. "So, how long have you been looking, David? You know I'm shy." She leaned over and kissed my forehead.

Before she could pull away, I sat up and pulled her close to my chest. "Long enough, muffin. And who said you were shy? . . . You seemed pretty fine, last night."

She blushed and tugged herself away, leaving me with a faint smile on my lips.

"Oh, hush . . ." She pulled her shirt over her head, leaving her chestnut colored hair in a similar shape, such as a bird's nest.

I stood and walked over to her, pulling up my boxers at the same time. When I nearly reached her, she skipped ahead into the restroom, closing the door shut.  I rolled my eyes and hit the door with the palm of my hand lightly.

"Really, Octavia? . . .," I groaned. I became slightly annoyed when I heard a faint giggle, but it was okay, because I loved her, and she loved me.

The shower began running and I looked around the room. Several books were scattered on the ground. They were psychology books, Octavia's major.  She helped me through a lot of the bad times and the confusing ones. She helped me find myself, and I would have lost it without her. I loved everything about her; her compassion, loyalty, her scars from long ago (I accepted them more and more every time people rejected her because of them). Her eyes had specks of almost every different color known to man. I pointed them out to her once, but she claimed that I was the only one who noticed it, and that her eyes were only a faint, plain teal. They were so much more to me. We were of the same age, twenty-four, but we didn't look like it. She seemed much younger than I, who had wrinkles around the eyes from staying up so late, writing computer codes, making a living from home.

I stood in front of the full length mirror, examining my arm sleeve tattoo. The skin around it was still pink and sensitive. With the other arm, I poked at it, not feeling much pain, but a faint sting. Octavia didn’t want me to get it, but I did. It was a selfish move, and a few weeks later, I felt really bad about it. Octavia told me it was okay, and as long as it made me happy, she was happy. I took a deep breath and scanned over my body; buzz cut, scars from accidents, stitches. I can’t help but say that I was lucky in life. Really lucky.

The shower stopped and my head jerked over to the door.  A few minutes later, Octavia stepped out, her hair wet, but she was fully clothed. I always wondered why she doesn’t come out with a towel. I liked the way she looked in one. But of course, she was ‘shy’.  I stared at her and she blinked.

“Well… aren’t you going to shower, Mr. Stinky?” She took a towel and wrapped it around her head.

I sniffed and stuck my tongue out at her teasingly and grabbed a towel and started toward the bathroom door.