Chapter 1 Thanos's Fingers

• GRACE
• “Good morning, baby.”
• That strange yet soothing voice caused my eyes to snap open faster than Thanos’s fingers. For a second, I trained my sight on the familiar ceiling above me because I could already tell that I had once again brought home another stranger after a long night of drinking.
• My head started to race, trying to figure out what and what happened the previous night.
• Even though one thing was sure- I entered the clubhouse drunk and then got extra drunk- it was necessary I remember who I hooked up with.
• Ugh...who am I kidding? I won’t remember shit. My nightlife is a shitty cycle.
• A shitty, shitty cycle.
• Once it was established that I am indeed stupid, I braced myself to face the man I had foolishly brought into my house with the intention of having crazy and drunk sex with. It is the type of sex I would never remember and that is the most perfect because I don’t exactly work well with feeling ashamed.
• Gently, I sat up.
• But my head hurt madly, I had to groan and grab both sides of my head. I tell you, the after-effect of intense drinking feels new every other day, it is almost as though I am yet to get used to the aftermath of my insane nightlife.
• After sweeping my long black hair out of my face with a small shake of my head, my hands still grabbing my head, I finally noticed the stranger I brought home.
• Sitting in front of me was an all-smiling, cute Asian dude, probably Indonesian. I would have returned his smile because it was that contagious, but a battle was still going on in my head.
• “Good morning, Rose,” he greeted.
• Shit. I must have taken up another identity again.
• “Hiii...” I wished to pretend that I was happy to see him, but my mouth failed to cooperate. My mouth was too lazy.
• “I made you a hangover relief juice. It is my Grandma’s special.”
• I narrowed my eyes at the green juice pushed to my face.
• “Your Grandma has hangovers too?”
• He chuckled, his motion vibrating the weak bed in a way that caused me to feel a sharp tug in my head. “Ouch. Ouch.” My face squeezed to relay the pain I was feeling.
• “Oh my, are you fine?” Continuously hearing the tenderness in his voice would have been enough to cure my pain, but it sadly wasn’t enough.
• Neither was his cute face.
• “Could you maybe not laugh? My head is...” He lifted one of his thick brows and I instantly began to eye the greenish liquid in his cup.
• Then, seconds later, without bothering to ask what the exact content of the cup was, I snatched the object from his hand and downed half of the juice without pausing.
• When I finally took a break from drinking, I sensed the bitter aftertaste. I masked the way I felt with a short smile and the man gave me a grand smile in return.
• His attentiveness yet to disappear, he said, “You will feel better very soon.”
• After a quick nod, I began to scan my room. It was necessary to know what damage we might have caused the room during our possibly heated romp.
• But everything was looking neat. Even my drawer was well arranged. On a normal day, it never is. My eyes went to the floor again, and I noted that there was no sign of discarded clothing.
• With a confused look, I faced Mr. Cute who was still smiling at me like I was his favourite video game.
• “Uh...” I paused because I quickly realised that I still didn’t know his name. Honestly, I am not used to knowing the names of men I wake up to find on my bed the next day.
• A simple thank you and goodbye always did the work.
• As if he knew what was on my mind, the man answered, “David. My name is David.”
• I dropped the half-filled cup onto the little stool beside my bed and dashed him a quick smile before asking, “David... Why is my room looking like an unused hotel room?”
• “Oh, last night when we got back from the club, you kept wondering what it would be like if you had a genie who would wish your room tidy. It was fun to watch you pretend to be Aladdin.”
• My eyes widened a bit as I processed what he had just said. “So, we didn’t...have sex?”
• He got up and said, “Nope.”
• “Huh?” My shock failed to hide itself. “Are you sure?”
• “Yeah. You did say you wanted to have sex but you thought I was gay because I was talking to the bartender in a way you found suspicious. So, you told me to take you home and here we are.” He put his hands on his waist and gave another grand smile.
• “Wow.” I was still shocked. My vicious nightly pattern has been broken thanks to David and I am really shocked about that. Because David doesn’t seem gay in any way.
• Or...
• My eyes slightly narrowed, and I asked, “Are you gay?”
• “Nope. Honestly, I wanted to sleep with you badly, but I just couldn’t do it for some reason.” He shrugged, a pretend nonchalant look on his face.
• “Wow.” I think it’s a good thing that nothing happened. It is nice to know that I am making progress with the way I live my life.
• True to David’s words, my headache had reduced and that meant it was time to go to work. I tried to rack my brain to remember which day it was; Monday? Tuesday?
• Whichever it is, I need to prepare for work. Hopefully, I don’t see a zombie when I look in the mirror.
• “I need to check what I am cooking,” David announced as he adjusted his t-shirt and made our eyes meet. “You would love to have breakfast, yeah?”
• I nodded in affirmation and got off the bed.
• Isn’t he so extra cute? He is making breakfast for me even though we didn’t get any action.
• “Wait....” I stopped David whose averagely-built figure was already at the door. He turned, raised a brow, and I asked, “What time is it?”
• “Uh... last time I checked it was ten-thirty or so.”
• “Oh, okay... What?!” I screamed. “Are you sure your time is correct?”
• “Yes. It should be eleven o’clock by now.”
• My eyes widened more and I could feel my head dance in an unpleasant way.
• “David... I am freaking late for work!”
• Why am I fucking screaming at him as if he is the reason I got stupidly drunk?
• Argh!
• Hurriedly, I got rid of the gown I had on to expose my bra-covered boobs, and naked pubic area to David who I could have sworn let out a groan at some point.
• But before he quickly excused himself, he urged me to try to hurry.
• “Please, pack my breakfast! Thank you!”
• I grabbed my folded towel from the end of the bed and rushed into the bathroom for a quick shower.
• I could have opted to excessively spray my body with perfumes of different brands, but the smell I was getting from my body was discomforting, so sacrificing five minutes to bathe didn’t seem like a task.
• In no time, I was putting on a pair of blue and silver check trousers and a blue T-shirt supported by my very comfortable black slip-on shoe. I grabbed my phone and office bag and rushed out of the room.
• “David, is my breakfast ready?” I took a quick look around my little living room while I fiddled with the earring I was putting on.
• David walked out of the kitchen on cue and stretched a brown bag in his hand toward me.
• After a quick appreciation was thrown in his direction, I grabbed my car keys from my bag and rushed out of the apartment. It was when I got into the car that I remembered that I forgot to tell David to make sure he leaves before I get back.
• It was already strange enough that a man I didn’t know just made me breakfast.
• But, right now, David, is the least of my issues.
• Grateful that my apartment was on the ground floor, I roughly backed my car out of the underground garage and soon, I joined the busy roads of Manhattan.