ANDRE
I can't fucking sleep.
Tossing and turning all night until I give up and stare at the ceiling.
I can't believe that happened. It's been three days since that night. The night that might have changed my perspective, and that's right along the night I got insomnia. How could I not? When all I saw was him, felt him, heard him… him him him.
I am so doomed.
Giving up, I toss the covers aside and sit on the bed. Tonight, Rex hasn't thrown a rager or worse, an orgy. The sex god needs rest, too, it appears. I wouldn't have minded one tonight. It would be a distraction for me, one I need the most.
I get out of bed and don't bother with wearing anything as I adjust my sleeping shorts, so tiny that I could flash someone if I sat shirtless, as I decide to head downstairs in the kitchen.
Maybe drinking water will help me or something.
