"What?" I ask, voice rough with sleep and my face twisting up in confusion. What the fuck is he talking about. What the fuck is he doing here?
Rubbing at my eyes and trying to blink away some of the fog that's settled over my brain, I swing my legs over the edge of the bed, sitting there in sweatpants and nothing and feeling stupidly exposed as I look up at him incredulously. "What the fuck are you talking about?"
And what the fuck is he doing here? But I'll get to asking that one as soon as I figure out who he thinks hurt me.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2007-01-18 02:23 am (UTC)Rubbing at my eyes and trying to blink away some of the fog that's settled over my brain, I swing my legs over the edge of the bed, sitting there in sweatpants and nothing and feeling stupidly exposed as I look up at him incredulously. "What the fuck are you talking about?"
And what the fuck is he doing here? But I'll get to asking that one as soon as I figure out who he thinks hurt me.