brief encounters - cognitive dissonance

fuck you

Beware: slob; dark; some experimental prose; a possibly occasionally intentionally unreliable nonspecific narrator; and phrasing like that... and this.

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He walks in to find her lying on the bed wasting time on Facebook. She is propped on her elbows, hair a mess in a loose and careless bun that allows much of it to fall around her shoulders and face, partly but futilely shielding her from his gaze. Debris of her slovenliness lies close by: a plate that he is sure once held an entire small cheesecake, an empty party-size bag of chips, several other food wrappers, an empty bottle of Gatorade that lies on its side, yet left uncapped has still managed to drip a pink stain across the comforter. Crumbs are spread across their bed: She's been lying there all day. Again.

"I can smell you," he says derisively, his lips curling just the tiniest bit as he reaches for restraint. And he can, beneath her obnoxiously lovely perfume, her scent now is... demanding.

She glances out of the corner of her eye at him, huffing once quietly from beneath dirty blonde curls, but doesn't turn her head. "I've been busy. Haven't had a chance to take a bath yet."

He sighs to himself as well as he turns to walk across a floor strewn with more debris, her clothes, random bottles of girl stuff and feminine products, more wrappers and containers, some maybe weeks old now. Their stalemate continues. "A shower. I know your baths, soaking in your own juices for an hour on an ipad with headphones and wine. Soap is a real thing you know."

It was after dusk and she was still almost naked. In the dim lighting of lamps and old white christmas lights 4 months out-of-season, he could see what looked like crumbs stuck to the bottom of her swelling, newly-cottage-cheese-textured bottom, peaking out indigently from beneath the shear, old, vintage-y pinkish teddy she now always seemed to wear. Jaw clenched, he shakes his head to himself. She must now be well over 160.

She'd started wearing the teddy because it was loose, but that reason is clearly in the past. Months of sloth have deteriorated almost everything about her. And her behavior... her feet are on both their pillows at the head of the bed. Her soles are dusty: Somehow she's miraculously gotten them completely filthy without taking a goddamn step today.

"Looking for a job?" he asks nonchalantly yet pointedly as he puts away his tie in the closet across from her.

"Mmmph," she mumbles, annoyed sounding, which, in turn, she must know, makes him even more ticked.

He looks down at her out of his peripherals as he changes his shirt. Her hair is filthy. She catches him looking, glancing up shrewdly through her lazy curls. A small smile, not unkind, now plays on her lips as she looks back down at her screen. The lack of edge seems to annoy him even more for some reason, perhaps because he takes it to mean that she thinks that, deep down, he is still attracted to her or something.

"Shampoo still exists too," he says as harshly as he can, managing to sound even cruel, and turning away with as much disgust as he can convey.

Too much, perhaps.

She makes a different sound, a deeper huff. A hurt and angry one this time. Good, he thinks. He hears her shuffling on the bed.

"Fuck you," she says, but he doesn't look, or speak, refusing the bait, as if now quietly furious and yet now-twistedly self-satisfied with getting her.

When he is sure she's turned around, he glances sideways. Her dirty feet are now to him. Tone-less calves meet soft plumped thighs. Her teddy got pulled down, hiding her ass but barely. But he was wrong, he realizes, as he sees eyes staring over her shoulder at him. They are wet, yet defiant, catching him in what she perceives as a physical deceit. She silently lets him know she hates him, in this moment at least, and pulls the comforter over her wide, spreading hips as she turns back to her distractions from life, now propped on his pillow. Belonging to her, it was undoubtedly dirty as well.

"I guess I'm making dinner again." He pauses, pissed but unsurprised, and smirks. "It's salad."
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Nok 7 months
hmmm... maybe, at some point. You can though. Feel free to rewrite your own version to your heart's content. And let me know; I'd love to read it.
Nok 8 months
Thank you very much for your comment man! Had a lot of fun writing it.
QuebecFA 8 months
I really loved this story! It is very sexy and well-written! :-)