It’s already four in the morning and I still couldn’t sleep a wink after the devil incarnate just turned on the TV and played the entire Fast and Furious series all the while pushing me off the bed as soon as my eyes droop.
The Gatorade isn’t supposed to have this much of an effect on him, but apparently it does, and it isn’t helping that the heater wasn’t on the high despite the dramatic drop in the room’s temperature.
“Let’s go to sleep,” I said, my voice low and hoarse from being too drowsy but he just looked at me with an air of smugness.
“What’s the problem, Your Majesty, need your beauty sleep?” he retorted, returning his gaze on the TV screen and eating his chips with such a loud atrocity.
He’s annoying. It’s too loud and I’m cold. How the hell am I supposed to rest in peace ove
