I am awake. But I have no idea why. I glance over to the window. Still dark. So it’s probably not time to be awake yet. I run quick internal diagnostics and realize I don’t have to pee (which is a pleasant surprise, but I’m not going to question it).
Do you ever just know someone is looking at you? No noise or movement gives it away, but you just know someone, somewhere, is looking at you. Well, this particular moment I have that feeling. While it’s not light out yet, the neighbors have a spotlight shining at the corner of their house that also happens to shine through the window next to my bed. When that spotlight is on you can see fairly well even when the lights in our room are off. I glance around my side of the bed and don’t see anything. I didn’t actually expect to, my dog would have alerted if someone was there and I’m a light sleeper so someone breaking in without notice is unlikely. I’m annoyed that I can’t shake the feeling. I tell myself I must have woken from a nightmare that I don’t remember now, and after checking my phone (3 am…still time to sleep!) I roll over toward the center of the bed to try and find a comfy spot to settle back into slumber.
I carefully arrange my pillow so it doesn’t mash against my cartilage piercing. For being a small thing it causes me intense irritation at night. As I find a comfortable position I glance over to find the person staring at me. I blink. Mancandy is not blinking. Which is disconcerting. He’s also not smiling. Or moving at all. Just staring at me with a slight frown. It’s creepy. I assume I’ve annoyed him by moving around and offer an apology. He continues to stare without blinking. I realize I’m dealing with Sleepy Mancandy. He dislikes me intensely.
I stick my tongue out at him. No reaction. I tell him he should blink. No reaction. When I reach over and pat his arm he transitions to a full glare. Now he’s blinking, but the expression is intimidating. I decide this is silly and close my eyes. I try to ignore the fact he may still be looking at me. Eventually his eyeballs will dry out and he’ll shut his eyes. I like to sleep. I want to sleep. I don’t care what he’s doing.
That’s a lie. I do care what he’s doing.
I open my eyes. And look straight into his wide open peepers. He mumbles something. It’s so faint and garbled I’m not sure it’s actually real words, but the cadence and quiet tone suggested it was meant to be. I ask him to repeat himself. The glare deepens. More mumbling. I apologize again, explain I can’t hear him and ask what he said. The glare is outright hostile now. More mumbling. Once again, I apologize and ask him to repeat what he’s said.
He mumbles a bit more and flips over with a disgusted and angry air. I stick my tongue out at him again and close my eyes. Found Dory my patoot! As I’m drifting toward sleep something slams into the top of my head. My eyes pop open and I grab my head. I hear slurred apologies, someone calling me “baby”, and see a large hand coming toward my face. I turn away in time to avoid a face pat and just in time to enjoy an ear pat. The patting continues as mumbled apologies and unfamiliar endearments flow. I try to hold off the patting and say it’s okay but Sleepy Mancandy has decided I’m cold.
The weather of late has been sporadically muggy and hot. I was not in any way cold. I had no covers on but there was a small mountain of blankets between us. I was holding the patting hand in midair and had to release it to try and catch the entire mountain of blankets his other hand was shoving into my face and shoulder region. Now I’m being awkwardly patted about the head under a ton of blankets as Sleepy Mancandy simultaneously rearranges covers with his other hand to fully submerge my face and is continuously mumbling about being sorry.
I’m less and less amused and now I’m starting to sweat. I sharply tell him I’m fine. I try to swim my way out of the blankets and twisted up sheet. I get annoyed with the patting and smack at his hands. The patting just moves to my shoulder. As soon as I start to get unraveled I feel him tuck me back in. When I tell him to stop, that I’m hot, he starts patting my face again.
If you’ve never had someone pat you in the face, it’s both enraging and hilarious. I’m pissed and laughing at the same time and by now I’m speaking at a pretty loud volume to try and wake him up. I’m also getting extremely hot and uncomfortable. I don’t sweat cute.
I finally manage to shove my way out of the covers and shove them back between us. I can tell by the lack of slurring in his apologies that he’s waking up, and as I get ready to tell him he’s a donkey for bonking my head and then drowning me in covers I hear “Ew” and his patting stops abruptly.
He asks me why my face is wet. When I snarkily tell him it’s sweat from him trying to smother me he mumbles “Ew. Gross.” and rolls away from me. I am now quickly rounding the emotional corner toward pissed. His breathing gets heavier.
I scramble over right behind him and explain with much hand gesturing to his back that he assaulted me and then tried to overheat me and patting someone in the face does NOT calm them down and I’m not a dog to be patted in the first place and where in the hell does he get off saying I’m EW!?
He shrugs without turning to face me.
“Found. Dory.” He says it with a wistful tone.
He starts snoring.
I glare at him for a while before shrugging and plopping my head down behind his on the pillow. Maybe I can get a little more sleep before his stupid alarm goes off at stupid 5 am. I wrap my arm around his waist and settle in to try and sleep.
Sleepy Mancandy shoves my arm off of him and with a thoroughly disgusted air moves away from me.
I roll back over to my side of the bed and hope he falls off the edge of the bed onto his stupid face.
He didn’t. But not for lack of hoping on my part.