My eyes fly open. shit! As I lay on the couch, a wave of drowsiness enveloped me, and before I knew it, I had drifted off into slumber. But what had led me to succumb to sleep in that moment? It was undoubtedly Jason's dreadful singing that set everything in motion. In an instant, a force envelops my entire being. A chilling liquid is gradually infiltrating the fibers of my clothing. Alas, I utter expletives. It is a clear, flowing liquid! I gaze downward, and droplets cascade from my form like a shimmering waterfall. My voice erupts in a cacophony of exasperation. Jason fights to hold back his laughter, but it escapes him in an uncontrollable burst. In this exact moment, I vowed to end his life by wrapping my hands around his throat, yet the thought of facing imprisonment for taking down my infuriatingly charming tormentor held me back. "Oh, darling girl, you are drenched." How did that happen? His laughter resonated like a melodic chime, bright and infectious, filling the air with a warmth that invited others to join in the joy. It danced lightly, a playful sound that could lift spirits and brighten even the dullest of days. Is it not feasible for me to swiftly rush to the kitchen and retrieve a knife to confront this fool who is standing here? Absolutely not! It will only intensify my wrongdoing. With a deep breath, I align my posture and offer Jason a warm smile. My sudden change in mood has taken him by surprise. "Oh, my goodness, what a charming way to rouse me," I pretend to smile. A curious look appears on his face as he lifts an eyebrow. "Are you really suggesting that drenching me was a wise choice?" What is the reason behind this?
"I believed that splashing water would be the most effective method to rouse you from your slumber, especially after I had called your name, yet you remained unresponsive," he remarks. He receives a dismissive eye roll from me. Could you kindly clarify for me the reason I find myself awake once again? "I have just completed the preparation of dinner," he states. I understand, but what does that mean for us? I scan him with my gaze. "Then put on your clothes," he says. I march away, grumbling quietly to myself, while the sound of Jason's laughter echoes behind me; what a jerk. As I stroll into the living room to don my clothes, I catch sight of Jason lounging on the couch, his gaze intently locked onto a television program. In the midst of his persistent unawareness, I reach for the remote control resting beside him and promptly switch off the television. As he gazes upward, I observe the deep sorrow reflected in his eyes. "That is my favorite show," he expresses with enthusiasm. "What is it about this that appeals to you?"
"Could you please turn it back on?" he requests. "No, I cannot do it," I replied, my head gently swaying from side to side. "Why must you be so bothersome?" he sighs. "I must admit, you are quite the source of irritation," I say. He rises from his seated position and strides across the room towards the kitchen. He picks up his meal and abandons mine. His irritation was unmistakable. Seated across from me, he directs his gaze towards my position. With a fork and knife, I delve into the succulent meat, and my taste buds awaken from their slumber; this is the most exquisite slab of meat I have ever savored. His piercing gaze is locked onto me, and I strain to look away. Softly murmuring to myself, I continue to delve into my meal. Simply expressing, "This is delicious," would be adequate. "Marie, I am delighted to hear that you are finding joy in it," he says with a warm smile. I met his smile with a gentle nod of my head. Noticing his empty plate, I graciously offered to wash the dishes, acknowledging his effort in preparing the meal. He rose to his feet and carefully set it down in the sink. "Alright, sure," he replies, pivoting to meet my gaze. Once I finish washing the dishes, I make my way back to the living room and reach for the remote control, only to discover Jason completely absorbed in his phone. I choose a film to enjoy, yet he stays firmly attached to his display. I gaze at the television for approximately nineteen minutes. "Hey, are you feeling okay?" he asks with concern. I returned his smile and replied, "Yeah, of course," conveying my reassurance that I was fine. "What are we watching?
"Do you have anything specific in mind?" I ask. ,
"I am uncertain at the moment; perhaps we could enjoy an episode of Tom and Jerry," he replied to his earlier comment. I nod in agreement, a chuckle escaping my lips at his choice of show, before saying, "Okay, then," and switching on Tom and Jerry. Jason, despite being older than me, displays a childlike demeanor as he sprawls out on the couch, having just finished watching the Tom and Jerry show. It baffles me that he chose to stay in and did not even make an effort to meet any of his friends today. As I gaze upon him, I cannot help but be captivated by his strikingly handsome features, even in the stillness of his slumber. His restless movements and heavy breathing during sleep reveal that he is trapped in a bad dream. I make a frantic leap towards him in an effort to awaken him. With a drowsy voice, he murmurs, "No, no, no, please return to me." "Hey Jason, get up," I yell. Suddenly, without any warning, he leaps up and envelops me in a warm, tight bear hug. "Please, stay with me," he implores, his arms wrapping around me with a firm intensity. "Are you feeling okay?" I inquire. He slowly let go of his hold on me. He looked absolutely mortified in his dream; his profuse perspiration confirmed it. Standing up, he says, "Yeah, I am," and then he leaves the living room, leaving me alone. He comes back, yet this time his attire has changed: "I will return; do not hold on for me." He bursts through the door, a whirlwind of emotion, leaving me with no opportunity to inquire about his well-being or his destination. What a truly despicable person he is....
Upon opening my eyes and gazing out the window, the darkness outside is unmistakable; the shimmering reflection of city lights dances across my room, affirming the hour. I lift my phone from the nightstand and press the power button; the display lights up to reveal the time: 2:34 AM. Just as I was about to drift off to sleep once more. Suddenly, the sound of heavy footsteps fills the air, causing me to pause in my bed, gripped by a fear that it might be an intruder. Suddenly, I become aware of a loud noise, reminiscent of something crashing, coming from Jason's room. As I make my way to the door, I rise to my feet, extending my arm in a graceful stretch along the journey. As I flick the switch, an overwhelming brilliance fills the room, leaving me in awe of the intensity. With quiet precision, I gently open the door and glide down the hallway towards Jason's room. Is it appropriate for me to tap on the door to check on his well-being? While I linger at his door, a thought flits through my mind. As I lifted my hand to knock, the door abruptly swung open, unveiling Jason, who was evidently inebriated, swaying gently before finally coming to a shaky stop. "What brings you here?" he asks, a playful smile dancing on his lips. "I am actually just on my way to get a glass of water," I say while lying. His disbelief was evident as he continued to fix his gaze upon me. "Yeah, but what were you doing right in front of my door?" he asks, his stance unwavering and alert. "I heard a faint rattling sound coming from within," I say, avoiding direct eye contact with him. "To put it differently, I am uncertain about the reason." "Alright," he replies, "now head back to your room."
"Have you been drinking?" I inquire, my voice tinged with accusation. A slanted smile spreads across his face as he gazes at me, his eyes drooping. "And why is it important?" he inquires. "Since I happen to be your roommate," I explain. "Marie, go to bed," he says. "I am not leaving here," I declare. "What gives you the willies?" he asks. In my opinion, your t-shirt has an alcoholic odor. Instantly, his shirtless chest was revealed as he gestured toward his T-shirt. "Oh, this," he says. I turn my attention away from his chest and look up at his face because his eyes are so utterly distinctive. A smirk appears on his face as he marches closer to me. Suddenly, I feel his strong hand grab hold of my wrist from behind, and I shrug my shoulders and turn away from him. He then places his arms on both sides of the wall, making it impossible for me to flee. He then turns me around so that I am facing him, and with that, he slams me against the wall. Despite my efforts, I couldn't resist meeting his intense blue eyes as his gentle hand lifted my chin, bringing us face-to-face. His hot breath is brushing against my lips as he draws nearer, and my breath is becoming labored. As he continued to hold my waist and look directly into my eyes, a knot formed in my stomach, which I forced to swallow. The heat that is emanating from him is like waves that I can feel hitting me. Our lips are barely an inch apart as he leans on me. He moistens his lips with a lick, and I meet his gaze on his pink lips in the same way he meets mine. Why do I feel this way? It would be wise for me to reconsider my actions. Besides being my roommate, he is also the biggest jerk. "Do you think I would kiss someone like you, Marie?" he asks, his lips curled into a playful grin. His remarks sliced through my heart, causing it to bleed profusely; my heart had been racing for a moment. I slid down the wall, taking in all that had happened, as he staggered back to his room. Did I really believe he was going to plant a kiss on my lips? In all my years, I have never before encountered anything like this. I get to my feet, walk to my bedroom, and immediately turn off the light before going to bed. I can not help but wonder how he is doing and what caused him to drink so much. What is it about him that captures my interest? He treats all girls the same way, and I am surprised he treats me this way. My mind keeps playing the same scenes over and over again, no matter how much I try to block them out. What on earth is he doing in his room right now? Surely, he is either asleep or fully awake. My god, I do not know what is going on with me or why I feel this overwhelming desire to be there for him and comfort him. I stare into the night, and, for some reason, I begin to fantasize about being Jason's girlfriend. But I dispel the thought before it can take root. I can not say that I blame the girls for being so smitten with Jason; after all, he is the son of the Greek gods, and they clearly took their time creating him. I gradually drift off into a profound sleep.