The Carrero Heart - Beginning (Friends to Lovers)

From the banging around in the kitchen and the smell of food for the last few minutes, I assume the one known as ‘girlfriend’ is being all domestic and shit and acting like the good little housewife she aspires to be. I’ve managed to dry my hair into some sort of straight silkiness without having straighteners and I’m literally starving. I ended up leaving most of my smoothie out in the Livingroom and it will be ruined by now, warm and melted and totally unpalatable.

I can hear Arry talking to her as I make my way out, swallowing down that tide of sheer ‘grrrr’ I always get when she’s around, and walk casually out into the middle of the room; unaffected by the presence of the little dark cloud in the apartment.

I catch sight of him leaning his butt against the kitchen counter, tossing an apple up and down and catching it as she moves around the stove and sink. She seems to be chatting to him and I stand for a second to watch the cozy little couple, doing cozy little ‘coupley’ things. It just makes me eye roll in rage.

Watching these two have me wondering why people stick together after the passion fizzles away. I mean they barely touch each other from what I have seen, they don’t laugh and kid around the way he does with me. Natasha is far too grown up for that, and I know it irritates her when he hangs me upside down or chases me through the house when I won’t give something back. She’s like a non-fun mom who had kids too young and regrets having to be the grown-up. I only ever see them exactly like this.

Where is the fun in love if it makes you behave like this all the time?

Is this what a grown-up relationship looks like?

Arrick is in mature mode, listening to whatever she’s saying with that deadpan expression and talking back with a look of boredom on his face. Well, actually, he always looks a bit like that when he’s not smiling, but I want to believe it’s boredom. Because it’s her, and she is the most mind-numbingly boring person I ever met.

I remember once he tried to bring her along when he took me snowboarding for a weekend. His family owns a ski lodge up in the mountains and it was like going off for a weekend of fun and adventure but with your gran in tow. She didn’t want to try anything, even skiing. She didn’t like when the group of us that went all sat outside after dark, around a fire, and got drunk. She hated that Arrick played his guitar and everyone had a little sing-along; she seemed mortified that he can not only play but sing too. I guess the absence of his guitar in recent years is down to her, the whole ‘happy hippy’ vibe by the campfire just seemed to make her wholly uncomfortable that night, and she looked incredibly awkward.

him feel like he couldn’t come with us and he spent most of the trip stuck at home with her too, while Nathan took me with him and

up defensively and eyes roaming for things to criticize. Arrick immediately flashes me

… he has zero sense of humor

pointing out the fact I am in the oversized Arrick hoody over my designer frayed mini skirt, the top practically eats the skirt and makes it look like I’m walking around without one. Her eyes trail alarmingly down my

another frown from his side. Another chastising ‘behave

and make it work somehow. Very cute.” Natasha giggles and goes back to

in a stretch, catches the hem of my hoody, and lifts it with a questioning peek under

in a headlock and rubs the top of my skull hard, friction burning my scalp as penance for giving him the bird. I yelp, squirm and start fighting back, trying to stand on his foot and making a lot of muffled moaning noise as he keeps grabbing my hands and pinning them

and like to have a little space in the kitchen.” Natasha’s stern tone halts our messing with its motherly scold. Well and truly told off by Mommy dearest, and I get pushed aside like a naughty kid with a shove in the forehead. I bat out at him and immediately go to smoothing my hair and fixing my clothes while cursing under my breath. Natasha flutters

Too late.

off the counter with a smile her way to walk to me, shoving me with him as he does so and gets one back in retaliation. Arrick is still in shithead mode, taking pleasure from pushing me around this morning. I

of his way with a smirk and heads to the unit by the window which houses all the mats and cutlery for this table. He has a pretty formal set of