The morning afters were always the same. Except today.
Usually, I woke up first. Sometimes, I carefully removed the covers and tip toed across the plush carpet of my bedroom over to the bathroom, sloshed a bit of mouthwash, rubbed the gunk out of my eye, and slipped back underneath my sheets before Johnny stirred.
I just would prefer to look somewhat presentable when he found me laying next to him. It’s not that I thought he’d judge me for looking a little unkempt first thing in the morning. He wasn’t that kind of friend. He was just the kind of friend I f****d on occasion, when we had nothing better to do, when we found ourselves lonely and a little unloved, and sometimes in his case, tormented by his past.
Today, the first thing I saw when I woke up were his eyes, staring at me intent
