Jonathon slumped, alcohol infused, eyes staring blankly, a ridiculously inappropriate smile playing about those greased lips that only a few hours ago...seemed so kissable. Robert arrogantly stretched across the couch I have so often curled up on alone, foetal, arms wrapped about myself, as tears of self pity and self loathing have dampened my cheeks. I detest him; despise his confidence, his masculinity, the knowing superior derisiveness of his stare, his unkempt and unwashed hair, his. Once in a while, when he thought she wasn't looking, she would catch him stealing little glances at her and she could swear that just before he would turn away in embarrassment, he had a look of contentment on his face.What puzzled her most was why he had never made a play for her? Then she hit on it. It was that look of contentment on his face when he looked at her. She knew that look.Why hadn't she realized it before, she thought to herself. She had seen it before on her parents faces and she. More

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