Screenshots. Voice notes. A blurry photo from the smoking area. I thought I was being discreet. I was being content. There’s a difference and I keep forgetting it.
Tag: hookup
Sophie Found Last Night’s Tie
It was on the toaster. She held it up like evidence. I said it was fashion. She said it was a cry for help. Both true.
I Kept His Shirt On Purpose
It smelled like him and a club and bad decisions. Sophie asked if I was “keeping souvenirs now”. I am. Obviously.
Someone Used My Good Towels
There are rules. White towels are not for strangers you met at 1am in Shoreditch. I found makeup on the good set and I’m being very normal about it.
Footballer From Friday’s Afterparty
Not naming him. You’d know the face. Took me to the hotel next door, barely spoke, fucked like he had a match in the morning. Left a shirt. I kept it.
I Deleted Him At Breakfast
He was sweet in the dark and mid in daylight. I finished my coffee, blocked the number, and borrowed Sophie’s concealer. Efficient. Some would call it cold. I call it Tuesday.
I Told The Wrong Story
Recited last Friday to a girl at a lunch who turned out to be his sister. She laughed like it was funny. It wasn’t. I still finished the anecdote. Commitment to the bit.
We Compared Notes In The Kitchen
Mia’s boy versus mine. Timing, stamina, whether they asked for water after. Scientific. Petty. Necessary.
We Never Made It Upstairs
Hallway. Shoes still on. Someone’s Amazon parcel as a pillow. Romance is dead and I’m throwing the funeral.
Bathroom Stall Was Unexpectedly Romantic
Romantic is generous. Functional. His belt buckle kept hitting the dispenser. I still came. That’s the bit I’ll leave in.