The Duo's Third (COMPLETE)

Davina Preston: Interview

I sat there. Wrapped in a blanket, staring at the TV.

The host was talking. Two names. Perfect names before rounds of cheering.

I sipped my wine, staring.

They walked out, the host standing, inches under their 6'3 heights.

Shook hands before sitting beside each other, Azriel gently patting Damien's thigh before returning his hand to his own lap.

Why were they so fine?

Damien sat back, his black hair adjusted messily, his white dress shirt slightly unbuttoned, a silver chain on lying around his neck.

Azriel had his arm resting on the top of Damien's chair, his other hand on his thigh, relaxed, his brown hair was less messy, more cleaned up, his black dress shirt with only one button undone.

His green eyes pierced the camera as they both slightly waved both at the audience there and at the camera.

God. Please forgive me for my sinful thoughts.

Jawlines. Lighting. Everything was perfect. They were stunning.

"Mr. Zara and Mr. King. Hello." The host began.

"Nice to be here." Azriel smiled a relaxed smile.

"So there's a rumor circling the internet. Names of a third? Is she a best friend? Or is this really true? The world wants to know." He was entertained.

"The world?" Damien asked.

"Well America takes up a lot of the global population." The host chuckled, warily eyeing the camera.

"Not true. At all. And the ones who want to know are ignorant Americans. But yes, she's with the both of us. No it isn't an open relationship." Damien quirked an eyebrow.

My heart was in my ass. They could ask about their successes. Or anything else.

"Well alright, is it serious? What are the details? I heard she's an employee." He grabbed papers, lining them up using the table by tapping them down a few times.

"It's serious, and our relationship is none of yours or anyone's business so how about we move on before we cross personal boundaries." Azriel patted Damien's shoulder.

"Alright then." He cleared his throat.

I frowned. They didn't seem happy. Yet I had no idea what they were like to anyone but me.

"Are you going to the charity event this year?" He asked.

"We are attending yes." Damien answered.

"Will there be matching outfits? Will mystery girl attend? How many years have you gone?" He piled on questions.

"No, yes, 5." Azriel sighed.

"We will continue after this break." The host also seemed frustrated with the dryness of their responses.

Damien: tell me you love me.

Azriel: tell me you're not watching this shit show.

Two different texts, both making me groan, drinking more of my wine.

Secondhand embarrassment. And awful host.

Yet most of them are.

I texted back Damien first.
Me: you've got this, you're gonna be just fine. His episodes are short, power through. Also, you're fine as fuck.

I would never text my feelings. Especially if it's the first time I say them.

Then Azriel.
Me: I am, I know it's frustrating but you look fucking hot.

I stood, going and grabbing an ice cream sandwich.

It came back on.

I sat down.

"And we're back."

I gradually sunk further into the couch, the questions awful, their responses short.

Asking them questions about their own relationship, asking how this works since they're both 'gay'.

I had to shut it off.

I was trying to get eaten by the couch.

Tonight wasn't gonna be so good for them.

But they had 30 minutes left.

And I couldn't watch that shit.

They're interesting people. Ask about their company. Business collabs. How they met.

I felt so bad.

My phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Girl those men are being tortured." Ally laughed.

"Don't even talk about it! I had to turn the TV off." I laughed.

"Avery and I are watching to be supporters and simpers of your men but what the fuck. They look so mad. He just asked if you would let them get another man. I think he refuses to believe they're bisexual." She cackled.

"Stop. Oh that's so sad. He needs to get a life. I'm chugging wine right now. And praying for my life when they get home." I shook my head, finishing the ice cream sandwich.

"Seems it's happening now because Damien looks like he's about to hit the man so Azriel cut the show short." Avery told me.

"Girl nooo. I'm not ready." I took a gulp of wine.

"I'll come to your pussy's funeral, ma. I love you." Ally laughed.

"Fuck you." I hung up when she laughed.

I said a mental prayer.

I didn't exactly think that they'd come home and fuck me, I was thinking they were gonna be annoyed all night but Ally made a decent point.

Well shit.