I was having quite some trouble saving my images at the microscope. I had tried several times, but my files kept being saved in such a way that they were "unopenable" anywhere else. I had followed the steps I had been told and set it all up so that they would be automatically saved after the microscope finished taking all of them, but somewhere something was obviously going wrong, and I didn't know what. So, finally, I decided to ask for help. Since he was a senior PhD that had used that particular microscope for the whole three years he had been working on his project, he was the obvious person to ask. If I have to be honest, if it had been anyone else I probably would have asked the first time I didn't manage to save the files properly, but it was him. I was so into him that it made me nervous to even approach him, let alone talk to him. I'd had my eye on him since the start, but he didn't seem interested in anyone in that way, so I just left him alone.
We were lying on my bed, warming each other with the heat from our naked bodies. The sweat hadn’t yet dried from our skin, our smiles were not yet faded. We lay there, his arm under me and my head resting on his chest. I cuddled him, breathing in his scent, which I knew I would miss when he went back home.
I was so drunk I could barely walk in a straight line. We had arranged for a girls night out; let’s get drunk, and forget about our stupid bosses, our annoying flatmates, our parents, or whatever was bringing each of us down every day. But I had gone way too far, and now I didn’t even know where my friends were.
It had been a terrible week. My moves on the new guy had gone unanswered, which was completely understandable seeing as he had a girlfriend. She came to pick him up after work and when I saw her I just went back home with my hopes crushed to a mush. If I wanted to get some action soon I would definitely have to start a Tinder account.
Dangerous Liaisons, by Choderlos de Laclos, appears in all the “Best Erotic Literature” lists. Convinced by the number of sites and bloggers that recommended the novel, I decided to read it. I was excited, because it was an erotic novel published in 1782! How revolutionary is that, right? But hold your horses, because it isn’t an erotic novel as we understand them today.
I woke up confused, and looked at the alarm clock on the bedside table. “03:00” said the red digits shining back at me. Why did I wake up so early? I was turning back onto my side when I heard some noises coming from the neighboring room. We knew that the hotel was far from being the best, but having to listen to everything the neighbors did was too much. What were they doing banging on the walls at this time anyway?