The Bully (BWWM)

Chapter 5

I am in a deep sleep when I hear a knock at my door. The only time I can really sleep in a little is the night after I drink. I am not hung over or anything but I am just extremely comfortable and don't want to move.

"Go away!" I yell. Who is disturbing my peace so early in the morning?

"If you don't open the door, I am coming in. Breakfast is ready."

"Ugh put it in the microwave!" I snuggle back up in my comfortable position, the air is on and I am snuggled up in my blankets.

He was serious about making me breakfast? Dam.

I hear a click of the door and footsteps. I open my eyes slowly with an annoyed look on my face only to meet his piercing blue ones. "Get up its like 12 o clock, we didn't even go to bed that late."

"Noah have you ever been stabbed?" I ask propping my head up a little.

"I will yank these sheets off of you and drag you down stairs." he says in a jokingly serious tone. Why is this man bothering me, its only breakfast wtf. I ignore his comments and shuffle so he can see I am getting comfortable. He takes a hand full of the end of the blanket and my eyes snap open.

"You pull off this blanket off me, you're going to get more than you bargained for."

He bursts out laughing. "What am I supposed to believe you're naked under here or something. Who sleeps naked?"

"You want to test out that theory?" I said looking up at him. I look at him and he is staring at the blanket in deep thought, his grip tightens before he lets go. He walks out of the room closing the door behind him.

"Be downstairs in 5 minutes or i'm coming back with the ice water bucket whether you're still naked or not." Did this nigga say ice water bucket? I give up and stomp out of bed to grab my tooth brush and brush my teeth while throwing on some loose short dad shorts and an old white crop top. I yank off my bonnet and I am happy my pineapple is still intact. I make my way down stairs and my nose I hugged with the smells of a variety of breakfast foods. I smell bacon, eggs, waffles, pancakes, and did this man make rolls? The kitchen island is decorated with enough breakfast to feed six people. He looks up at me before taking in my body. "Go change," he says seriously.

"Why, what's wrong with what I have on? I am conformable." We literally have on dam near the same outfit. He's wearing a fitted white drift shirt with some grey sweat shorts. Lord this man is definitely wearing those dam grey sweats.

"I can see your nipples through your shirt, your dam stomach is out and those shorts are very short." I have literally worn worst than this in the house I don't see the issue. I don't have a flat stomach but I often wear my midriff out with my shorts typically being higher on my waist so people wouldn't notice my Fupa.

I look down at my body while my negative thoughts flood into my mind. Am I fat? Is he saying this because I look to pudgy to be wearing any of this stuff? Maybe I should skip breakfast all together. I'll just thank him and tell him i'm not even hungry. Curse my inner thoughts.