Fifty-seven

Days passed and it was still the same. I go to work, I have a platinum haired guy trailing like a puppy. The only difference was at night when we tumble in sheets. Not that its important. Because what's important is that Platinum has been staring at a cup for thirty minutes. He's got bags under his eyes. Can't blame him, he almost doesn't sleep. He shivers sometimes but kept on insisting to wear 'muscle cuts' as he said his clothes are called. But to me the muscle cut that I'm only interested in involves muscle cuts that bleeds.