You wake up hot and sticky. It's one of those end-of-summer days where the heat gets to you and you don't want to do anything but lay around. You've been feeling so shitty recently your bed was too alluring to resist this time. You have no idea how long you've been sleeping. It was afternoon when you passed out, it must be close to evening now. There's still some light filtering through the shades. You loll your head to the right and stare over at the other side of the room. The half-made bed, the little pile of clothes shoved underneath it. You let out a sigh and think about going back to sleep. Anything to ignore the heat and the uncomfortable sinking in the pit of your stomach. Instead you get up, make yourself nibble something out of the mini fridge in the corner. He's not coming back tonight you know that. You don't like that you care about it. Soon it will be considered Saturday night and you're not quite sure what to do with yourself.
You lean your head against the frame and sta