Spent twenty minutes on the lips. He kissed it all off in a stairwell in Soho. Then put me against the wall. I redid the whole face in the Uber home. Priorities.
Someone’s Fiancé Bought Rounds
He said they were “on a break”. The ring tan said otherwise. I still let him pay for the vodka sodas. Research, innit.
Two Boys After The Wrap
Fashion party, free champagne, bad decisions. Ended up in a suite with both of them. They took turns. I directed. Makeup was ruined. Best content I’ll never post.
He Stayed For Breakfast Anyway
Look, I said he could get an Uber. He made coffee instead, used my good mug, and Sophie clocked the whole thing in her dressing gown. I still haven’t decided if that’s charming or a hostage situation.
I Kept His Lighter
Not as a trophy. As proof I didn’t invent him. Sophie asked why there’s a clipper on the windowsill that isn’t ours. I said it was Mia’s. Mia said it was mine.
Shoreditch Rain Ruined The Dress
The white one. Of course the white one. He offered his jacket. I offered nothing back except a very wet anecdote.
Peckham Roof Was A Mistake
Beautiful at midnight. Tragic at 4am. Someone’s cousin DJ’d, the wine was warm, and I snogged a man whose name I still cannot spell. Classic, really.
Flatmates Rated The Walk-Ins
Scorecards on the fridge. Marks for height, exit time, whether they made tea. Last night’s got a 6. Harsh but fair.
He Stayed For The Full English
I didn’t cook it. He did. In my kitchen. Wearing yesterday. Sophie walked in, said “morning”, and put the kettle on like a saint.
Banker Choked Me Too Hard
Nice suit, worse manners. Hand on my throat in his City flat and I liked it more than I should admit. Bruises next morning. Told Sophie it was a necklace.