~~PEYTON~~
It's been a day, and I've been avoiding Odin like a disease. I've locked myself in my room, staying put until he finally leaves for work.
Even then, I move through the apartment like a ghost, tiptoeing around corners, half-expecting to bump into him. I eat in my room, read in my room, practically live in my room. The idea of running into him, of having to face his stupid pose of "we need to talk," annoys me.
It seems his blonde "friend" has become a regular. I hear her laugh, her moans, sometimes shouts that grate on my nerves.
They don't just "do it" in their room. They do it in the kitchen, my kitchen, even on the couch, the hallway, the f*****g stairs.
When the sounds come, I grab my blanket and pull it over my head. I'll try to block out everything, and that, usually le
