ʚїɞ │Bad Idea Eight

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Song: Arabella

By: Arctic Monkeys

Dedicated to: William.

Dedicated to: William

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I wake up to the sound of the front door swinging close

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I wake up to the sound of the front door swinging close.

Papa's home.

This is just great. I'm just glad he knows not to drive drunk at night.

I stand up, rubbing my eyes, and gather everything I need for my shower. When I enter the shower I make sure to put the showerhead on the full force so I can mumble out my parent's fighting.

Needless to say, it worked. I could hear them a bit but the water mumbled them out. A part of me wished I couldn't hear anything at all because they're arguing about Papa not coming to the charity, to see me play the guitar.

He is the one after all who taught me how to play.

Grandma Reyes used to be a singer during her twenties. She gave it up after getting pregnant with Papa. But she made sure to teach Papa how to use the guitar just like her mom taught her.

When walking past my window something catches my eyes. More like someone.

My towel almost drops to the sight of her. The sight of herself in a towel.

Malia is clenching onto the towel around her body while putting lotion on her legs. Those beautiful legs of hers slightly opened while she applies lotion on them.

I can just imagine my head between those legs. How soft they would feel as they wrap themselves around my head. The amazing taste of her juices on my tongue and lips. I groan to myself for even thinking about such things. Now I have a fucking hard-on which I can't take care of.

I quickly close the curtains and force myself to forget about my thoughts.

I start getting ready for school and pray to God nothing drastic happens today. When I'm done getting ready I tell the kids to get hurry up and get their butts downstairs.

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