Entwined

They took centuies to reunite. Persucuted, burnt, enslaved, they passed on the curse through their children, grandchildren, mothers and now we find them again binding together. Witched.

"Belinda?!"

"Shhhh, he can hear you" she replied.

"I can't believe you're doing this," you say and fold your arms at her as if the act would be punishing enough. Belinda shrugs and begs you with praying hands like she does every time.

How many?

Belinda raises two fingers. She's swaying a bit, and that'll be the tequila's fault, and then she raises one more finger, and nods and says, "four".

"Four? no."

"Okay three, I can make three work."

"Doesn't he have any?"

"Dunno"

I raise the peace sign and purse my lips.

"That's it. Take it or ..." I say with a frown.

"TWO?! AH C'MON MANnnnnn!" she catches herself raising her voice "Shhhhh. Shhh. Shh. He's right there.", she tells her self.

I sigh and cross to my bedside table, open the draw pull out a box of DUREX, and count out three condoms then and return to Belinda, who is doing the praying hands thing again. I splay the condoms like playing cards, so she can see there are three, she punches the air with a silent YESSSS and pouts at me with a "smoochie poochie" kiss, and takes them.

"Three? I mean seriously, that's just greedy y' know?" I say

Belinda nods eagerly.

"Shes a hungry little thing", she says her sky blue eyes grin galore, then she spins around to leave, looses her balance and bounces off the closest and only just manages to stabilise. Then she reverses out my room and closes the door.

Then then door popped open again, just enough so Belinda could poke her lips in. She mouths "I love you so much. Thank you" wags her wine stained sloppy tongue up and down, pinches her lips and gives me raspberry lip fart.

"Hey" I whisper shout "no noise! I have to be up early, please. Okay?" I wait for the protruding mouth to respond. Nothing happens. "Belinda!!? I am serious. Okay?"

The disembodied lips hovering in the doorway pucker and say "oh key doe key" then her pierced tongue pokes out in defiance and then the nose and puckered mouth retreat, the door closes, the handle releases with a soft squeak, and she is gone.

I fucking love her to death.

She is, whatever, she's my flatmate, my friend, councillor, pseudo sister and she had the right amount of madness to balance my disproportionate boringness. I think, on a universal level, we are actually one entity. We are two halves entangled. Like fucking protons. One pea. Two halves, and we have the same bra size, so that's kinda cool too. Sometimes borrowing is easier than actually doing laundry. Am I right?

"Whooooooohoooooooo!, give that over here!" blasts straight through the thin walls. In an instant, all the adorable things you know that stuff I just mentioned are summed up. She is actually an inconsiderate bitch.

The pungent smell of Marijuana slips in from under the door, and I can hear the signature frantic bubbling and whoosh of breath from a water pipe. I fold my arms. My lips press together, hard and thin. My eyes narrow into a sulk. Thinking starts to happen, and thinking never ends well.