Strange Taste in Music

Ugh, Mat has the weirdest taste in music. It was nice of him to lend me his ipod while I tanned, but what even is this stuff he put on for me. I guess it was OK as a relaxation mix, but these titles are absurd. “Malleability of the Mind,” “Let the Brain Sculpt the Body,” “Forging of a Goddess,” “Remembering the You that always was,” it just goes on and on and on.

“Christina, you ready to come out here?”

Ugh, he’s already calling me down to swim? I swear, you’d have thought that he’d have finally gotten enough of me after I agreed to try being more than friends, but nooooo. It’s not enough to share almost every hour of the day, our meals, our bed. No, he needs it all. We’ll I’m taking another few minutes to work on this tan and zone out. Let’s see if “Puppetmaster of Passions” or “Smoldering Desire” are any better.

Huh, Mat does look lonely down there. I wonder if I can plant a kiss on him before he sees I’ve gotten up?


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