𝗜𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗶𝘁 𝗔𝗳𝗳𝗮𝗶𝗿𝘀 | 𝐁𝗼𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐝𝐲/𝗥𝗙𝗞

XXIX: "Happiness"

Bobby's legs relentlessly chased after Evelyn, though, the woman paid no mind to his pleadings. "Eve! Wait up!" He shouted without a breath to spare. Evelyn contemplated for a moment before continuing her pacing. "Listen, I'm sorry!" Bobby successfully reached for her arm. "You didn't have the right to say what you said!" Evelyn shouted with a numbing pain in her chest.

"I know! I just... it was a heat in the moment thing." Bobby ran his fingers through his messy hair. Evelyn scoffed, "What kind of excuse is that?" Her eyes, coated with tears, pierced through the man. "My... my feelings for you were true, I had to let him know!" Bobby took a small step forward as he tried to keep his lips from quivering.

Evelyn's quietness said more than what was needed; she was conflicted, yet again. "Come here," Bobby said calmly. His hands, laying on Evelyn's shoulders, pulled her body into his chest. "It's okay. Nothing happened." The man encouraged, his hands rubbing her back like he was smoothing the bedsheet. "Yeah, sure. But what if he tells Ethel?" Evelyn released the hug by looking away, Bobby understood immediately.

"He won't, but if he does... I'll tell her the truth; we fell from the table." A shrug with a feigned frown, Bobby confidently suggested what seemed to be a half-baked solution. "It just sounds so ridiculous." Evelyn exhaled warm air, she spotted a place under a tree and began walking toward it. "We should forget about this," Bobby simply said. Though, the look in his eyes was crystal clear; he was scared there might be another confrontation if Ted couldn't keep his mouth shut.

"I just want to have a good day, for once." Evelyn lied her back against the tree bark and Bobby did the same. "I have an idea," Bobby said, his eyes gazing at an object between them. "No, Bobby, I am not playing volleyball with you after what happened two years ago." The woman's cheeky response only received an eye-roll from Bobby. "No, this." He grasped onto Evelyn's bag, placing it onto her lap. "The letters?" "Yes, the letters. Let's kill some time." Bobby spoke with conviction, making it difficult for the pushover woman to say no.

Evelyn cautiously uncorked the chartreuse bottle with a Swiss army knife. "Careful, we should bury it back when we're done." Bobby sat up to take a closer look at Evelyn's hand working. "Should we?" She glanced with a puzzled look. "Wouldn't it be nice to look at it again in the next decade or so?" The man's lips tucked upward; a failed attempt at persuasion. "It'd be boring if we do that every decade." Evelyn shifted her attention back to twisting the corkscrew.

"Then how about this—" Bobby paused mid-sentence as he laid his hands on Evelyn's, trying to regain her focus. "We'll add new letters into the bottle each upcoming decade." His eyes of blue glimmer with hope and stronger persuasion than previously. Evelyn restrained the urge to laugh ferociously at the haggling man. "What happens when it's full?" With her eyes on Bobby, her hand successfully removed the cork off of the bottle. "We'll throw it into the ocean?" The man shrugged, knowing they could think of that when they cross the bridge.

"Deal," Evelyn said, lending her dainty hand forward. "There's a lot of space in that thing; we might have to add letters until the twenty-first century," Bobby muttered with his hand gently shaking his friend's one. "Only fifty years to go." Evelyn chuckled breathily, her eyes unwittingly squinting from the sunlight. "No, no! Only five more letters to go." Bobby teasingly yanked Evelyn's hand; pulling her closer to him.

"Stop it! I still have a knife in my hand." The woman pushed the mini corkscrew back into its gap with her index finger. Bobby suddenly released his handgrip and snatched the compact knife. "Hey—" "This is Joe's..." He mumbled to himself while his eyes stared straight at the 'JOE JR'  etched on the wooden casing. "I didn't steal it; he gave it to me when we visited him at the boot camp." Evelyn could only watch as the man brushed his thumb against the mark.