Day 12:
I woke up in his apartment. Not too shabby.
I wasn't sleeping with him. I was on the couch.
I do remember feeling really panicky about being here.
What if he doesn't remember?
What if he thinks I'm a creep?
Why did he put the painting there? Totally throws off everything around it.
Why am I even here?
This isn't how it's supposed to be.
Im not supposed to be here.
All of those thoughts were running through my head. When I finally sorted them out, I heard a few footsteps and grumble.
"Hey Stump." He whispered lazily.
"Water helps. Eat too. Your apartment is nice, sorry I can't stay. I shouldn't be here." I managed to say as he stared at me with tired eyes. I didn't even know what the time was.
I helped him to his apartment and he insisted I stay for my "good deed" when I know he was expecting a little more.
He made a bed on the couch somehow and scrambled to his bed.
That's all I remember.
Does this make me a bad person?
