13 days.
That's how long it's been since you've seen your fiancé, Prince. He was on tour at the moment and you missed him terribly. The only good thing that came out of this was the fact you were able to hear his voice every night before you went to bed.
You both had an agreement that you'd hear from him at 10:30pm on the dot.
It's now 11:15. And you're pissed.
He'd probably forgotten about the agreement and was doing God knows what with God knows who. The very thought had your blood boiling.
Oh, he'd definitely get an earful if he ever decided to pick up the phone and call you.
"11:18." You mutter to yourself, mentally cursing out your fiancé in your mind, tiny frown lines making themselves present on your forehead. By 11:45, the phone finally rings. You scoff as you lean over and grab your phone off the nightstand.
Now he calls?!
You let it ring a couple more times, contemplating on just sending him to voicemail, but you knew you wouldn't hear the end of it if you did. So, you swallowed your pride and let your left index finger slide across the screen, finally answering the phone.
"Baby-." His soft baritone enters your ear, making you roll your eyes. You're in no mood to hear him apologize. At least, not tonight.
"You're late, Nelson." You say, cutting him off before he could finish his sentence, letting him hear the irritation in your voice. He sighs.
"I know, baby. The show ran a little longer than expected. I literally just walked off stage."
"Mhm."
"You're upset." Prince says, as more of an observation than a statement, after a brief moment of silence. You roll your eyes for the second time tonight.
"No shit, Sherlock."
"Don't be like that."
"Be like what, Prince? Hmm?" You ask, your fingers trembling as you rake them through your hair. You wanted to scream at him, but what good would that do? "We agreed that we'd talk to each other at 10:30 every night. You don't call me until 11:45 and expect me not to be upset?"
"That's not what I expected at all, babe." He replies, the soft sigh that escaped his lips was almost inaudible. "I knew you'd be upset."
"Then what is it? You thought I'd just brush it off and act like everything is okay?"
"I don't know what I thought was going to happen." He says, another sigh leaving his lips. "I know it wasn't this."
It was your turn to sigh as you run your fingers through your hair again, the anger you felt toward him slowly subsiding. You didn't want to argue anymore. The next words that came out of his mouth made you wonder if he could read your mind somehow.
"Can we just try and have a civil conversation tonight, please?"
"Sure." Was your soft reply, your tone less abrasive. "How was the show?"
"It was great. It would've been better if you were here with me."
"I wish I could've been there, babe."
"I wish you didn't have to work tomorrow. I'd book you a flight right now."
"I'd like that, baby, but you know the bills aren't going to pay themselves around here." You tell him, a soft chuckle passing your lips.
"You know you could always move in with me. You wouldn't have to pay a dime toward anything."
You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth, letting his suggestion settle in your mind. Part of you wanted to say yes. The other, wanted to go the traditional route and not move in together until you're married.
