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“Now if I were a daft fuck I would agree with you” The blonde spat out with harsh laughter while I just looked at him trying to remember why my casting director was in my room while I was trying to sleep.
“Agree with me on what?” I tiredly responded sitting up and using a blanket to cover my tits that my director does not need to see at all.
He stepped closer before plopping on the bed like a giant puppy, looking at me with his big blue eyes. His signature trench coat was wrapped around him, and his usual slicked-back short blonde hair was all over the place. He looked like a mangy rat in a good way.
“Norway is better than America,” he responded, weirdly calm as hell before giggling randomly.
We had a conversation about this hours ago, and I'm not arguing with this man who has never been out of his home country of Norway so he can win something for once.
“Yes, Tord, Norway is amazing,” I said, my voice laced with sarcasm while I tried to hide under my blankets and annoy this harmless pest I call my director.
He just blanks out, and when I say blank out, I mean he just does his normal staring into space till he finally speaks.
“emmie?” he mumbled looking at me like a big ole puppy, he’s weird but I can trust he's not a creep, the fucker has a type.
“Ja, tord?” I sighed, looking at him.
“Am I annoying you?” he asked, sounds completely fucking innocent too so I can't be too mad even though he doing is daily dumb shit I'm about to coin as tord-logic.
“No, but it's late and I need sleep” There is no way in hell that simple statement is gonna get him to leave me alone, hasn't worked since he discovered my existence in Norway and came me a role as Sally Bowles and thinks im the only person I can play that character in his production.
“It's only 4,” he whined like a child and slid his entire body right on the bed right beside me as if it was his duty to watch me sleep.
“In the morning? Yeah, I'm sleeping” I rolled over putting my back to him thinking that would be the end of it, there is no end to it when Tord is here im fucking stupid for thinking that.
“Vellkom..” he mumbled, his accent was cute at least but having him mumble emcee lines in my bed is fucking funny.
“Sleep motherfucker” I grouched at him and just waited for him to start more shit.
“Sleep for the weak,” he mumbled back, not even using correct English, so of course I'm going to tease.
“Is for the weak,” I corrected.
Of course, the next thing this blonde thing does and look at me and scowl, I can't even take it seriously.
“Tipse,” he says it like it is an insult, so it's an insult. It's Norwegian for sure, but that's it.
I rolled back over and of course, he trying to steal my arm with his grubby dirty hands, god knows why there dirty.
So to keep this motherfucker quiet, he gets some chin rubs
“Can you sleep now? Please?” he's lucky I'm asking nicely instead of chorafloring him to sleep but this grown man, my fucking director looks at me and goes.
“Nein” as if that's going to encourage me to stay awake and deal with his manic ass
“Ja, I'm gonna sleep if you like it or not.” Eh, I feel a little bad because I snapped his head off slightly, but all I hear is nothing and just him getting all comfy and tired.
Thank the heavens, I'm more thankful he is in my bed instead of trying to stay up all night long and act like he a nocturnal being like he tries to be almost constantly.
“Fuck method acting” he growled out randomly and I just look at him.
Yeah, sure fuck method acting tord whatever, just fucking sleep.
So I just pulled him over and held him like a puppy. Judge all you want, but he hasn't gotten hard from me doing this, so I don't care.
“Cabaret?” he asked. I had no clue if he wanted me to play it or start singing, so I just asked.
“Play it?” I sit up, not waiting for a respons,e and look over at him. ok, he is happy and excited, with big smiles and everything, so I can't deny him.
I turn on the recording i have, to be more specific the 1993 alan cummings verison this motherfuckers favorite and only verison hell tolerate.
“There it is…” i trailed off noticing he out of bed, fucking hell his sillohite scared the shit out of me, just imagine a man in a huge trenchcoat in the dark its like my sleep paralyise demon got a human form and decided to terroze me in a semi good way if you consider how obsessed he is with me being sally bowls in his alan cummings inspired cabaret production.
Tord happily came back to the bed with the cats that were meowing away at him, his favorite one was my void I named after him. His name is uniquely weird, but hell, he's a weird guy in a good way.
“I got the kitties!” he beamed a big smile on his face. Most of them are kittens he collects off the street; then he stalks me to show me his newest kitten that he keeps in the huge theatre he owns. We have 50/50 custody. “Mhm-” he just dumped all the kittens on me just so he can pet them all and i dont have a bra on under these damn covers
Eh he seen me titties out in a dressing room and looked at my face the entire time he’s ethier gay or could care less then a fuck about titties.
“Tord, are you on cocaine or something?” There is no way in hell he can have this much energy at now a quarter to 5 in the morning. All I hear is a shrilled giggle coming from the right of me.
“Nope! I just drank a couple of those colorful cans in the fridge.” he went back to playing with the kittens. What fucking cans is he talking about-
FUCK I ain’t sleeping any time soon, he drank a few of my energy drinks that I was saving specifically for production night.
“Torddddd are you fucking serious?” I'm exhausted, and he's over here bouncing off the wall like a child on red 40 dye.
“What? They were good,” he bubbled with excitement. The recording I have playing is just making him more hyper. I sigh and I try something, he shown no signs of being sexual with his co-actors and me and he seems to have a very manic line of respect he keeps with women in general. Martha can simply tell him to calm down, and he’ll try his best to that woman must have a run for her money she dealt with him for years
“You want to be a good boy for me?” I didn't say it all dramatic; I just casually asked. Maybe that's how he likes being praised or something.
He, for once in his life, got extremely flustered but in not a way where it would come out angry and upset. If I said this to any other man, I would get yelled at quickly. All Tord did was give a small, shy smile.
“Ja! What do you want me to do?” he was all flustered and red
“Sleep, i dont give a fuck if you sleep in here just fucking sleep” now that I think about it I seem to love saying the word fuck, it rolls off my tongue like tord says daft.
“Ja,ja fine, love you” he laid down, he always says that last bit even if you are a man or a woman, nobody gives a fuck anymore.
I sighed in relief the moment his breathing evened out.