Not quite right...

I can't remember if I've posted about this before, but I had a random memory earlier today about a Saturday afternoon spent with FBS and a few others in the pub. The night before, I had been at D's house, having beers and playing video games.

I seem to recall D making a point about FBS being out with BW and a few others and why I wasn't with them. D was one of the few people who knew that FBS and I had been fucking.

So, the next day, I arrived at FBS's house, which we'd preplanned. We were meeting D and others in town. Why I was at FBS's and not D's, who only lived two streets over, and closer to my house is lost in the mists of time.

I knocked on the door and BW answered. I can't say I was surprised. I would say that 90% of the time BW went to a bar, he went with a plan to meet a girl. He didn't know about FBS and I, so to the best of his knowledge, FBS was available.

He had kipped on the sofa. FBS was nowhere to be seen. It was silent. I couldn't even tell if she was still asleep. But it was rapidly approaching lunchtime and I wanted to get into town, grab a bite somewhere and hit the pub.

While BW made himself presentable and tidied the sofa, I went upstairs and knocked on FBS's bedroom door.

"Are you awake?"

"Yes. C'mon in."

FBS was lying in bed.

"Get your arse out of bed. It's time to meet the rest."

It wasn't really. We had about an hour or so, but that allowed time for FBS to get ready, perhaps shower and get a bus into town.

"Yes, well, not with you watching. Turn around."

I'd forgotten that FBS had made two surprising claims about her sleeping habits. The first was that she didn't have a "side" of the bed. She just went to bed on whatever side was closest when she was ready. The other was that she slept naked. 

I'd already seen her naked at this point, but this was months after we'd last spent the night together. She wrapped herself in a dressing gown and opened her wardrobe.

"Is BW still downstairs?"

"Yeah."

"OK, I'll get ready. Go downstairs, I'll be 20 minutes."

The thing is, while I am 100% that this happened, some of the details of my memory feel off... not quite right. Like the night with D, playing video games, feels like it was the middle of winter, while the next day arriving at FBS's house feels like today: not quite spring, but dry, bright and just a little cold. Given our recent history and how it ended - I wouldn't say I ghosted FBS, but we didn't spend a lot of time alone once she admitted she wanted more than just casual sex - so me turning up at her house months after we last fucked and being cheeky enough to walk into her bedroom and demand she got out of bed also feels off.

Ah well, it's a pleasant memory nonetheless.