Mrs Hansen || A Lloyd Hansen Story

Boring Fucking Suburbs

Rebecca had been in a dead to the world sleep, panic jolted her awake when she had finally started to come around and felt the absence of Lloyd in her bed. She glanced over at his empty side, her eyes falling on Mia in her little sleeping bag. Arms raised above her head, palms spread. There was a pillow lying flat on the edge of the bed preventing her from rolling out, and the duvet was pulled down to stop her from over heating.

Rebecca fought the urge to kiss Mia in case she woke her. Glancing to the other side of her bed for water she found the camera from Mia's bedroom, the baby monitor.

Downstairs, Rebecca tiptoed around boxes of their belongings, smiling at Tony asleep on the sofa, which wasn't allowed but she didn't have the heart to move him. So instead she draped a blanket over his small body. The front door was unlocked and there was a faint sound of water spraying coming from outside.

Quietly, Rebecca opened the door met with Lloyd in nothing but boxers, washing his car. The display screen of Mia's baby monitor hooked into the thick waist band of his Tom Fords.

Lloyd was hunkered, paying special attention to the chrome wheels on his Aston Martin. He stopped scrubbing as Rebecca descended the porch stairs. The only light provided by the moon.

Lloyd turned, "Fuck," He gasped, "you're so fucking beautiful."

Rebecca instinctively glanced behind her and when she turned back around he was at her feet. The faint rhythmic beeping sound coming from his hip.

"Marry me tomorrow Rebecca. Fuck, marry me right now." He was on his knees clutching her thighs, pressing his head against her.

"Are you drunk?"

Clutching her ass with cupped hands, Lloyd pulled himself deeper into the fluffy crotch of her new pyjamas.

"I'm not drunk." He lied, Rebecca could smell the faint vapour of scotch coming from him.

She cocked a brow in his direction, "okay, so maybe I'm a little tipsy."

"What's going on in your head, handsome?" She gently moved him away so she could sit on the ground with him. Her eyes roaming over the driveway. He had come out here and washed away the evidence of this afternoon.

"I hate this fucking place." He grumbled, brows knitting together as he crossed his arms like a petulant child.

Rebecca bit the inside of her cheek, "I'm beginning to hate it myself—"

"No—" he snapped, "I've always fucking hated it."

This stung a little, and confused Rebecca. Lloyd had professed his love for this house, he'd practically begged to live here with her. So where was this coming from?

Scrubbing his face with his hands, Lloyd lifted his glacier blue eyes to Rebecca's. His expression softened as he saw the the impact of his words.

"But, you said you loved it and that you wanted to be here." Rebecca retorted.

"I love you." Lloyd proclaimed a little too loudly for 2:06am on a Tuesday. "All I wanted was to get back in here—" He places his hand on her chest, "and in here." Two fingers to her temple, "and here." His palm pressed against her covered crotch.

"Lloyd, you got in. This house it's—"

"Its a symbol of my mistakes, my fuck ups..." He pauses lifting searing eyes to hers, "and how easy you found it to move on."

Breath catching she held out her palm pushing him away slightly, "hold on a minute..." she cautioned but he ignored her and continued on his tangent.

"And now it's tainted even more with fucking death and mistakes. I hate it Becca, sweetheart, I fucking hate it." Brittle croaks appear in his breaths.