“Thank you and now get the hell into your room. I can't work with you beside me,” Claire scolded her roommate Christopher with just a hint of desperation in her voice.
“Come on, you didn't even receive the e-mail with your exam questions yet. Besides, it was you who came to me almost crying because your internet connection wasn't working. How did you accidentally delete our Wi-Fi password from your computer?” Christopher replied with an undertone of growing frustration.
“I said thank you for fixing that. Still, you agreed you'd stay in your room and let me work today!” Claire exclaimed, her timbre going heavy with approaching tears. Her elaborations were interrupted by the characteristic chime of her faculty's outlook web application. “Eek,” she shrieked. “It's the questions. Now get lost before I completely lose it!”
Christopher turned around and suppressed the '...what's already happened weeks ago' he had on his lips. Instead, he gave her a cold, loveless 'good luck' and slammed the door to the kitchen and adjoined living room shut.
Why did he have to stay in his room while she was writing in her exam in the living room? Why couldn't she just stay in her room and leave him at peace? “Because I don't want the bad aura of work in my bedroom,” he reminded himself of her explanation she had, of course, emphasized by going braless in her tank top, pressing her ample breasts together and being adamant about the importance that she be absolutely uninterrupted for the entire four hours exam duration. Four hours without his Playstation, ugh!
Christopher cursed the quarantine measures, Claire's faculty for having their students write their graduation exams at home and the entire COVID situation altogether for turning his life into a hell of boredom as he fired up his computer. Four hours, he thought. There was only so much porn to watch and so few times he could cum before his meat got sore. At least, he had a Skype date with his girlfriend. These usually took an hour or two, or more if she was in the mood. They hadn't seen each other in a month because of the enforced full lockdown. Blue fucking balls.
In fact, he cursed himself too for having agreed to move in with Claire two years before. A female roommate—awesome! Until he realized how her hair kept clogging the drain and instead of roaming around in sexy underwear, loose shirts and an Instagram-grade bed hair and that oh-so natural makeup, she'd always wear shabby sweatpants and old, muggy, half-torn hoodies and looked like an overrun owl between getting up and her first cup of magic black brew. He thought he'd discovered a pattern, however, of how her fulfilling his most intimate hopes in living with a girl was usually connected with her asking favors from him he would most certainly decline were it not for her female charms.
His continued cussing was now directed against his hormones often taking decisions before his brain even had time to understand their contents, let alone weigh the implications against each other. “I should have moved in with Rob and Ray when I had the chance,” he condemned this fateful decision he had long ago taken wrongly in his present state of mind. He realized once more he found himself thinking this more often than not.
Claire was a great girl, sure, she was fun to have around and good company and all but she wasn't much of a help in cleaning the apartment—courtesy of the pair of powerful arguments she was sporting at chest-height—and the friends she sometimes invited... Ugh! Still better than the dorks she kept bringing home and the usually ensuing lake of tears that was closely connected with Chris' function as the monthly-or-so shoulder to cry on.
“Why can't more guys be like you,” he heard her broken record reverberate in his memory. Because he was happily taken—very happily even, considering he might have hooked up with her had it not been for his girlfriend. Just imagine the complications it would have brought along.
Claire certainly did have her charms, so much was true, yet at the same time, she seemed to be battling several issues Christopher was all too aware of. In a way, he enjoyed the adventurous unpredictability of their mutual life and knew she appreciated his understanding and endurance of her various, often spontaneous caprices as well as the countless hours he had spent offering such simple gestures as holding her hand while she'd been lying in her bed rolled up in a blanket sushi, going through several packs of Kleenex in her darkest hours that appeared to be looming over her at all times. Yet, he wished that one day, a guy—or a girl, for that matter—who could show her the same degree of understanding and give her even the love she deserved would come into her life and take this burden off his shoulders. As much as he wanted to, his girlfriend obviously was in the way of him giving her what she needed.
