Saturday

For once in my life, I wouldn’t have thought I’d have a sleepless night because of a girl who hugged me so tightly. There were times I couldn’t breathe, there were times I could barely move. But honestly, if it were to see this side of her, I don’t mind having another sleepless night.

I think it was around 4 in the morning when I got a glimpse of my dreams awaiting me — until a speck of drool got on my right arm. I knew Carmilla was a snorer, a quiet one at best, but to drool in the midst of snoring was no other than unique to me. I had no way of removing it since she was in my way. I tried to get my arm off her, but from all the hugging, it went numb. I had to resort to wiping it off using her t-shirt. Call me disgusting, but I don’t want drool to lie on my arm until she wakes up and only then will I wipe it off.

By 7 in the morning, I could feel the heat of the sun striking my back. During those 7 hours of sleep, not once did she switch positions. She just continued to hug me. Sure, I like having it this way, but my body is in an indescribable pain. I had no other choice but to attempt to wake her up.

“Mil, get up,” I whispered softly into her ear.

No signs. I tried again.

“Mil, get up,” again I whispered softly.

Still no signs. I tried again.

“Mil, get the hell up. My arm is in pain,” I whispered with a slight aggression.

A change of position that gave me the chance to remove my arm. However, she was still asleep; I tried again.

“Mil, please get up. I’m sore.”

“No,” she replied weakly followed by a yawn.

At last she answered back, but it wasn’t the answer I was looking for.

“Please, my entire body hurts.”

“No,” followed by another yawn.

“I don’t want to use force, Mil.”

“I don’t…” a groan in between, “careeeee…”

I was getting tired of her clingyness. I didn’t want to force myself out of the hug because I didn’t want to hurt her in the process, but I also just wanted to fully wake up and not rot in bed. To be fair though, she’s got one hell of a grip when it comes to hugs. I commend her for that.

“Mil–”

“I’m not getting uuuuup…”

“Why not?”

“I wanna keep hugging youuu…”

“We can hug again if you wake up.”

“But not like this, I wanna stay like this…”

“Is my bed really that comfy?”

“Kinda… yeah. The other comfy points go to hugging you.”

“Thanks, I suppose.” I don’t know what’s comfortable about my body being super stiff. “I’ll get up first, you stay here.”

“Whaaat, why…?”

“I can’t lay down here all day and hug you.”
“Yes you can.”

“Don’t you have better things to do?”

“I’d rather hug you.”

“Just let me get up and cook you something.” For some odd reason, “cook” was the word that made her get up.
“Never mind, I’m not letting you cook,” and then a big yawn after.

I don’t know if I should feel glad that she’s awake or feel insulted about my cooking ability. Sure, I don’t know how to cook, but I’m not that bad at cooking.

“Let me cook, Rae.”

“Huh. That shocked me. You got up so quickly.”

“Yeah, ‘cuz I don’t trust you wielding a knife.”

“THE KNIFE I USE IS AS DULL AS IT GETS!”

“So? I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“???” I was the most unsure person in the world at that moment. I’ve been using that knife since the day I stepped into this dorm — and I’ve been in this dorm for more than 3 years!

“Don’t question me, motherfucker. I know what I’m doing.”

“DUDE, I KNOW WHAT I’M DOING AS WELL. HOW DO YOU THINK THE KNIFE GOT DULL?”

“I know, I know! I’m just much better at cooking!” I couldn’t really argue because she really is much better at cooking compared to me.

I remember back when I visited her house in June last year, she was the one that cooked this really good chicken curry from scratch. I would’ve used those cube things but from scratch is a different level. I let her slide with the “Raven can’t use a knife” thing. I don’t really care.

Good thing it was a Saturday, so we had plenty of time to ourselves. Carmilla stretched a bit and went straight to the kitchen; I cleaned my room and prepared to take out everything in the other bedroom. I expected the room to be pretty dusty since I did use it as a storage room. Upon entering though…

*COUGH COUGH*

“Jeez, this room’s hella dusty,” cobwebs, dustballs, and wood particles from my old oak chair. “I was just here 8 months ago and it was never this dirty.”

I grabbed a face mask and the ol’ reliable vacuum. A few wet wipes too because who knows what stains are on the walls. Looking back, I should’ve just used a hose. Or a mop. Not a hose. Why was that the first thing that came up in my head?

For the first few minutes, I took out the boxes I put inside. Old shirts I forgot to give away, a few school supplies, a dil– never mind, my brother’s guitar I “borrowed” from him back in senior high, and everything else I do not need.

After taking out 4 huge boxes, I tried to take out any of the furniture inside, like that old oak chair. Out of all the things I could’ve owned, it was an oak chair. Really clever financial decision, 1st-year Raven.

Before getting to start cleaning the room, Carmilla was already finished with making the food. Didn’t I just start? What time is it– oh, it’s 7:57. THE 8 BOXES ALONE TOOK ME 45 MINUTES?

“Rae, food’s ready.”

“Give me like 5 minutes, I’m trying to figure out where to put these.”

“Dude, the food’ll get cold.”

“Will it get as cold as your personality?” No response. Good enough.

She put the food on the table and sat down, waiting for me to finish what I was doing.

“You done? It’s been like–”

“It’s been 3 minutes, Mil.”

“I do not give the slightest shit.”

“Screw it, I’ll do this later.”

“Finally, sit down.” I sat down and… holy shit, what kind of breakfast is this? She made waffles!

“Huh, you used my waffle maker.”

“I saw it yesterday and I told myself I’d use it.”

“...So that ‘knife’ thing was just you wanting to use the waffle maker?”

“Yup.”

“You could’ve asked…”

“The die’s cast, dude. No coming back to it. Eat up.”

Welp, can’t help it. I picked up my utensils and cut the waffle in half. I honestly thought it was a regular waffle, but something was oozing inside it. It was the strawberry jam I had in my fridge. I have never opened the jam before, so to see it flowing so freely out the waffle got me kind of tingly.

“Okay, so I forgive you for using my knife.”

“When did I ask for an apology?”

“I… I don’t know. Seemed like you needed one.”

“Eh, good enough. Glad the insides cooked. Making this thing was a mess.”

“Really? You served it so cleanly, I wouldn’t have known.”

“Yeah, ‘cuz I’m just goated like that.”

“I should’ve never spoken in the first place.”

We both laughed it off and bit into our food. As much as I hate sweets, it was really tasty. The light crispy edge, then the transition to the soft bread, and then the perfect sweetness and tanginess of the jam — absolutely amazing. Carmilla’s still the best cook I know.

“Good?” she asked while giggling.

“Are there better adjectives than good?”

“There are, there are.”

“Then all of those.”

HAHA, I don’t usually compliment her, but seeing that little grin of hers — shoot, I feel proud!

“Thanks, I worked super hard on those.”

“The question would be if you wouldn’t.”

“Fair.”

We continued to eat after a few banters here and there, though the thought of her hugging me still lingered in my head. I could’ve slept on the couch, but she chose to cuddle with me?

After a while, we tidied up the table and continued to do what we were supposed to do — or at least what I was supposed to do. She volunteered sorting out the boxes. God, I just wish she didn’t bring up the–

“Goodness, Raven…” Oh shit. “Out of the all the things you’d keep here… you’d keep a dild–”

“THAT’S NOT MINE.”

“S-s-sure…”

“Mil, let me explain–”

“WHAT IS THERE TO EXPLAIN, RAE?”

“A LOT. I CAN EXPLAIN A LOT.”

“THEN ENLIGHTEN ME, BECAUSE I DO NOT WANT TO KNOW YOUR HISTORY WITH THI–”

“I DON’T USE IT.”

“WHA– So… you haven’t put it in?”

“...It’s the gift Jacque got me 2 years ago…”

“Wait — THAT’S THE ONE YOU GOT IN THE EXCHANGE GIFT PARTY?”

“Yup…” She burst into tears after hearing that information. I can’t blame her though, if I were in her shoes, I’d probably question my friend too.

“You can’t be serious, hahaha!”

“Welp, it’s the truth sadly.” I don’t know if I’ve ever heard her laugh that hard. Ahhhh… I should’ve given that piece of shit to my older sister.

After that rather unfortunate encounter with the thing I did not want her to encounter, I proceeded to clean the room. Every nook, every cranny I tried to clean. It was a little tough, but I don’t want Mil to get an allergy attack.

Give or take 3 hours in, I was almost finished cleaning the room. Carmilla took out the unimportant stuff and threw it away, including some of my clothes.

“Hey, this is some preem stuff. Are you sure you want me to throw it away?”

“Let me see.” It was a Spongebob shirt. “Keep it. It’s yours.”

“Woah, how cute.”

“You mean how nice?”

“Uh– yeah, totally. Cute slipped out instead of nice.”

“Sure. Whatever your delusional ass says, Carmi.”

“Woah, you called me that nickname again!”

I didn’t want to get pent up from her business, so I continued fixing and rearranging what I could.

An hour or so passed and I was finally done cleaning. That has to be the most cardio I’ve done this month.

“Aaaaaand done.”

She went inside and looked around the room.

“Wah, this looks amazing! I didn’t know it was so spacious!”

“Hehe, thank my mom.”

“She must’ve spent so much for your broke-ass.”

“The first part is true. The second part is… sadly truer.”

“You should be proud of it. Whenever we go on a hangout and you stare at something you want, I buy it for you.”

“Shouldn’t you be sad about that?”

“I never really thought of it as a negative thing. As long as I can keep you sane, I’m happy.”

“I’m regularly sane nonetheless.”
“Regularly.”

“...Regularly. Sadly regularly sane.”

“Couldn’t have said it any other way. Anyway, let’s plan out my room, yeah?” That’s gotta be the smoothest transition from relapsing to moving on. I wish it was that easy.

For the next hour, we planned out how the room would look: her aesthetic, designs, and her furniture. Apparently, she’s not bringing a lot of stuff, which is good. My only problem was how it’s going to fit inside my doors.

“My vanity will go by the corner there, and you— you stink.”

“I wonder why.”

“Take a shower once we’re done.”

“...That’s what I’ve been thinking since earlier. Shouldn’t you go first though since neither of us have showered?”

“Eh, you’d probably peek.”

“You don’t even have any assets anyway.”

“Excuse me? Yes I do.”

“I won’t go any further.”

“Know your place, boy.” Haaaaah, life’s miserable these days huh?

“I tend to ask myself why I’m still friends with you, moreover the fact that you’re moving in.”

“Be proud, man. You have a hot girl as your roommate AND your friend. What more could you possibly ask for?”

“I don’t know. Whenever I look at you, my eyes feel like they’re in hell. I guess you are hot.”

She slapped me when I said that. I kind of deserve it HAHAHA. No hard feelings though, that’s a normal banter between her and I.

We finalized the floor plan in the next minutes as said, showered. Not with each other, that’s weird, we showered separately. That has to be the weirdest and most disappointing thing I’d experience honestly. Carmilla is NOT packing anything. Okay, maybe I lied. She has a bit, BUT DON’T GET ME WRONG, I DON’T STARE. I JUST FELT A LOT MORE STUFF DURING OUR CUDDLING SESSION. Speaking of which, I have yet to ask her about that cuddling session.

I’m going insane.