Corpse | Corpse Husband

4

Aspyn walked back and forth between her front door and foyer mirror nervously. Her mini dress seemed too her, but the denim skirt strewn across her bedroom floor wasn't her enough.

She'd mustered up enough courage to ask Corpse to accompany her to dinner and to say she was nervous would be an understatement. They hit it off pretty well and while she enjoyed hanging out with him at his house, she really wanted to go on a date with him where they both dressed up and drank expensive wine.

They'd known each other for months now and had only hung out like friends would, and while there's nothing wrong with that, Aspyn didn't think of him as a friend... or at least she didn't want to.

At first, Corpse declined her offer to dinner. He said he didn't like leaving home, which was axiomatic. It wasn't until later that night that he realized she'd asked him on a date, so when she came over the next day he accepted her offer — only if the date took place at his house.

Two days later, Aspyn stood in front of her mirror for the tenth time within five minutes, chewing at her nails and looking over her outfit once more.

She loved the dress when she first bought it a few months before, from the length being short enough to her liking,
to the puffy sleeves — but now it seemed all wrong. She didn't think Corpse would like it at all, especially the way she accessorized, and she really wanted to impress him. She'd only ever seen him in casual clothes, so she had no clue what his style was like.

She was never one to care about someone's opinion, and everyone from high school could tell you that. She'd always wear what she wanted — crazy beads in her hair, platform boots, and once she even wore a full rainbow outfit: rainbow socks, a rainbow sweater, and a rainbow beanie.

However, for some odd reason, Corpse's opinion of her mattered. She wanted him to like her, because over the course of a few months, she'd grown to like him. She didn't want to lose any chance she had with him over a lilac dress with puffy sleeves.

The last thing she wanted was to scare him away with her outlandish style like she'd done before. Not only did her choice of clothing bring out the nasty insecurities from the slimy swamps of her exes gut, but it also brought slut-shaming, judgment, and outcasting.

Some would tell her she looked foolish and like a clown, some said she was too old to dress so "extra", and others said she was an embarrassment and looked like she worked the streets after dark.

As much as she wanted to believe Corpse was no where near similar to those kind of people, you just never know.

"Aspyn!" Jadon snapped his fingers in her face while grabbing her shoulders. "You look fine! His opinion is irrelevant. You should dress for you and if he lets your outfit dictate whether or not he likes you, he's a dick. Now hurry up — you said you have to be over in five minutes."

"What?" Aspyn gasped while grabbing her bag from the hook and shoving Jadon towards the front door. "Go home. I don't want you to see me walk over there and hand him the flowers. It'll be too awkward."

"Come on, seriously? I still haven't seen what the guy looks like!"

"And you won't, ever, if you don't book it!"

"You owe me — your sisters phone number." Jadon said while wiggling his eyebrows. "And before you say, 'in my dreams', trust me, it is."

"Grow up, disgusting shit! Now go!"

☠︎︎

Aspyn eyed Corpse as he slowly opened the door, nearly passing out when he came into view.