Last night...

I went over to Achilles' house last night. He wanted to hang out and I said "SURE!" because more than anything, I wanted to snuggle. And snuggle we did. He is a professional snuggler. I kind of love it.

I didn't get to his house until like, 9:30 or so. I had just gone to the gym and my thighs were killing me. I was so broken. So I collapsed on his bed and was like "gah, my legs, they are the broken" and he rubbed them for me. Which sounds bad, but I swear, it wasn't like that. He then told me that he feels bad for my body being so broken all the time. I'm okay with it.

The last time I saw him, he kept on telling me how I was pretty and cute and how everything I did was adorable (including dancing around his kitchen) and I dared him to come up with something that I did that wasn't adorable. Well, apparently, I make this face. I make said face whenever he says something slightly sexual (perhaps he says "I'll stuff your turkey" or something). He told me this face, while made in a sexy moment...WAS NOT SEXY. So guess what I kept on making last night? Oh yes, that face. I would make the face, go "THAT WAS THE FACE!" and then bury my head in a pillow. He would laugh and laugh and tell me that he felt bad for telling me that something I did wasn't adorable. It was cute.

I told him that I couldn't stay and that I would have to leave and go home to sleep in my own bed at my own house. He made the most excellent point that I was there, at his house, and it was warm and I was snuggly. Oh damn you. But I got up and get on my shoes and so on and went outside into the cold, even though I didn't like it. But as I'm going to get up to get my stuff, he kept on pulling me back and pulling me closer to him, telling me not to leave but to stay because it would be so much better if I did (I know that) and we could have so much fun (more fun than we already had? I don't think so) and that he likes me and wants me around. Adorable. He's so sweet and nice and lovely and seriously....I really really really like him.

I put on my emo glasses (I had taken out my contacts because my eyes were soooo dry) and he tells me how pretty I am. I'm blowing hair out of my face and he tells me how pretty I am. I'm telling him not to poke my chub, because seriously....I hate that. He insists that I'm not fat, I don't have chub and that I'm fantastic just the way that I am. Again, I have no idea how to handle someone just being nice to me to be nice to me. He kisses my hair! He rubs my shoulders! He kisses all my fingertips and then the palm of my hand (I haven't figured that out yet, but god, it's sweet) and I just...whoa. You guys. Whoa.