finnmaerskyapartment1081

First, he looks up. the sky was orange. Second, his toes stretched. the quilt abided. Third, he touched my leg. Fourth, he yawned and picked up the phone. He turned the alarm off. his under arms were beautiful and looked as soft as they felt. felt. so soft. "seven o'clock" he said with his voice, felt, it was a chuckle, and the accent that stressed the wrong syllable. He even had a big nose.
"Laast nieet, it waas fahn, baat Iee must go-oo to wurk nahw, vvehry soon." The shower turned on, with in a minute it turned off. he made the s noise you make when the hot water runs out suddenly. the sink. the squeaking of the pipes was very obtuse. It didn't even bother Finn, though. it would be surprising if he knew that sqeaking pipes and focets bothered anyone else ever. I don't think he realized anyone was still watching him. and who is this guy? it's now been almost ten minutes since he got out of the shower and he has neither dried off, nor put any clothes on...not that it was a bad thing.
He smiled a very toothy smile as he came back into the room. he walked past the bed and opened the closet. But not until after being sure that a goofy eye contact was made in the mirrored doors. The closet was a glorious day for anyone with OCD. It was the most organized thing ever, in the history of mankind.
He took a heavyish coat off a hanger in the closet-how would you say that... unhung it? then he went into the "kitchen". That's one thing from last night, that "kitchen". He returned to the bedroom/living room/dining room and smiled again.
"O Kayee, wehell just lahk thee do-oor when you leave." And he left.
Where the hell am I? Who the hell was that charming and goofy guy? And what did I do last night?