Cockroaches and nightcaps...

Chantelle realised she should probably break up with her boyfriend. They'd been living together for three months, and in that time she'd developed a healthy disgust for him. As she walked towards the small, dark kitchen of their one bedroom terrace apartment she couldn't help shake the feeling that he'd scuttle under the fridge the moment she flicked the light on. She turned the light on anyway, and found him standing in the middle of the kitchen, wearing a discoloured white singlet, socks and nothing else. He was drinking a beer. She lived with a man whose daily routine involved a half-naked midnight Carlton Cold. His back was to her. Despite the sudden flash of light, he didn't flinch or turn around. She looked at his broad, muscular shoulders, his right shoulder muscles rippling as he hurriedly tipped the beer bottle to his lips. His buttocks seemed to be taunting her through their fine screen of jet black hair.
"I am living with a man who drinks beer naked in the kitchen with so much intensity he apparently doesn't notice that where once there was complete darkness, there is now light," she thought. Her mother hadn't said exactly that, but her vociferous objections to her moving in with him began ringing in Chantelle's ears. Her thinking voice adopted her mother's whining tone: "You've only known him for four months." I know that Mum. "How do you know he's not a woman basher?" Excellent question, Mum. Can't you be happy for me? He wasn't a woman basher, thankfully. Just a naked midnight beer drinker who, although not literally a cockroach, had the air of someone who at any moment could touch your hand in a way that would make your skin crawl.
Chantelle flicked the light off again. Still he didn't turn around, or even make that annoying grunting sound he'd make in the morning when she said hello. They had the kind of relationship where polite greetings seemed more appropriate than affectionate pet names. She wandered back down the corridor and climbed into bed, wincing briefly as her hand became entangled in the briefs he had obviously discarded before heading to the kitchen.