5.1: Pink Hurricane

WARNING: There's some suggestions/references in here, so you may not want to read if you're under a certain age (nothing 18+ is here, though). Use your best judgement, thank ya.

   I sat up, looking up. What the hell? Everything was pink. The walls, the sheets, the lights. Everything. I didn't even like the color pink. It... great. I did this every morning. Wake up, wonder what the hell was going on then remember. It started a year ago, after I was promoted...

One Year Ago...

   "BRRRRRRRRING!" The fire alarm began going off. I was excited, I had to admit. My first fire. I did sound like a crazy person, but I was glad that I could help and save people.
   "Quick, Trevor!" A volunteer shouted.

   "Yes sir." I pulled on my outfit and rushed to the truck, climbing on. We drove to the fire in a little less then a minute; a firehouse record. I quickly put out the fire, after the hose was readied.
   Flames devoured the home, as we fought to end it. It ravaged on, burning everything in sight. We sopped it, luckily. Not before the home was burned completely down from the ground, though. I felt horrible. By the time anyone called, the fire was out of control; we couldn't have done anything. Still. I was getting ready to leave, when I saw a girl quivering on the front lawn. I wasn't in charge of the people area. That was the boss' thing. But she looked so scared. I took a deep breath, stepping over to her.
   "Ms, are you alright?"
   "My...my home!" She burst into tears."Thank you...but..."
   "It's alright." I comforted her. I spoke to her, reassuring her.
   "I have no place to go." She wiped the tears from her eyes.
   "Are you sure? No relatives or anyone?"

   "I'm not from here. So, no. My late husband, Arther, died eleven months ago... he was ninety-nine." Her voice didn't crack. Odd.
   "How old are you?"
   "Twenty-one." Twenty-one?! She was nearly a fifth her late husband's age (that also probably explained the three story mansion she lived- or use to- in.) . Still...her white-blonde died hair, streaked with dark turquoise and pink made her look so innocent and scared... she needed a place to stay.

    "You can stay with me."
    "Really?! Thank you." She kissed my cheek. "You're so generous."

Back to the Present...

   This is how I found myself with her. I bought her a  new wardrobe, let her decorate the home to her taste, everything. I was told she was a gold digger. She was; it wasn't a lie. Why did I let her stay...?
   "Trevor!" She sang-song. "I bought a new diamond necklace! It was a real steal, only being about ten grand, too." Ten grand?! Why was I staying with her? I sat up, looking at her. Oh...her body was gorgeous. And she was a hurricane in bed; wild, unpredictable. A hurricane obsessed with pink. HSe spent at least twenty thousand a month ( though fifty thousand was her norm).
    "We need to talk about your spending."
    "B-but." Her yes shined and her lip began quivering. I hated seeing her upset like this. "Twev-Tqev. Pwease." She spoke like a child, something annoying to me. I didn't have the heart to inform her that her suppose to be sexy voice made me feel uncomfortable, though. And was offensive to everyone with speech impediments they couldn't help. (Blake has one- the reason he hardly voided a word.)
    "It's out of control."

    "Aww. Come here, pwease." She took my hand and pulled me out of bed. Our lips touched as electricity shot through my veins. As much as I hated admitting it, my sex life was the reason I out up with her. "Let's try out some new moves." She winked.
     "I-I. Talk."
     "Trevor." She said, sympathetically. "Look at your friend." She downwards. "He clearly wants us to."
     "Oh." I stuttered, embarrassed. Her body pressed into mine,  making it even more apparent."I want you." I whispered. It was true- I wanted the sensation.

     "Yay!" She pushed me onto the bed, slowly slipping her clothes off. I loved this part of my life. We started this romance thing out when I realized I only had one bed... a glass or seven of wine and soon both of us thought it was a great idea. We weren't dating. Weren't friends with benefits. Weren't even really friends. She pretended that we dated, though. I happened to go along with it.It was a toxic mess. But, what was I to do?