by hannah
January 4th, 2010
From Sex, Life, & Hannah::Volume 1, Winter Season (Chapter 1: New Year’s Ex)
Jack is totally wrong, I tell myself as I head to the kitchen to fix my boyfriend a stiff drink.
I set the drink on the coffee table and go back to making myself up like a whore. I’m trying to decide between big slut-hair and slicked-back schoolteacher hair when I hear a knock at the front door.
“It’s open!” I yell.
A few minutes later I emerge from the bathroom with big slut-hair and ferocious red lips, standing nearly six feet tall in my stiletto heels. My body is wrapped in satin, lace, and fishnets; it’s as seduction-ready as it’s ever been.
I wrap my arms around my boyfriend.
“You’re not dressed.” He tries to pull away.
“You’re overdressed.” I push him onto the couch and start kissing his neck, working my way up.
“We need to talk,” he says, avoiding my mouth.
by hannah
December 31st, 2009
I am going to seduce my boyfriend.
We’re supposed to go to this glossy New Year’s Eve Party at the Beverly Hills hotel my boyfriend manages. He’s supposed to pick me up at seven. It’s six twenty-three. I’m not planning on getting dressed. I lift my vodka cocktail off the bathroom counter and take a sip.
Tensions have been running high in our relationship. This is nothing new. After five and a half years together, no more than five months have ever gone by without some kind of drama, incident, or break-up. But we are going to make it. We’ve been together way too long to not make it. I fidget with my garter belt, trying to figure out what’s supposed to sit left, right, and center.
I need us to make it. I’m done fucking around. I’m twenty-eight and I don’t want to be single.
And I do not want to be like my older sister who has no direction or aspiration. And never wakes up before noon. And devotes all her affections to three birds and a cat. I unroll each thigh-high and try to attach the hooks evenly. I take another sip of my cocktail.
…
