II 𝕭𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝕺𝖚𝖙 ⭐️ sequel to BB • COMPLETED II

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🅙🅞🅢🅗

"Troye, did you take the garbage out?"

Troye looks at me and pouts. I already know what he's asking. He wants me to take it out. I've taken it out all this week! Troye should do it for once.

"No, babe. Today is your day. I'm not doing it for you again."

Troye whines then rolls his eyes.

"No. I'm not taking the trash out," Troye says, picking at his finger nails.

"The fuck? Troye I've taken it out all week, you've barely done shit!" I yell, slamming my fist down on the counter. Troye has been acting like a fucking brat lately and I don't understand why.

"Oh well," He says, "you can just do it again."

I open my mouth, getting ready to say a long line of curse words to the boy with pink nail polish. But I stop once Troye stands up, and stands on his tip toes. Kissing me lightly. Then he walks off, shaking his hips slightly in a way he knows I'd notice. My anger flows away.

"Thanks," He says, with a smirk.

I just nod and grab the big bag of trash, opening the front door with a sigh as I threw the trash into the trash can.

•

When I walk into the bedroom, my eyes widen at the sight. Troye is laying there in this tiny skirt and a crop top while giggling ever so slightly at the cartoon on the television and I can feel my breath hitch in my throat. Swallowing becomes hard.

He doesn't notice me watching him yet, thankfully. He giggles at something again, and his skirt rises when he rolls onto his tummy. I run a hand through my hair. Why did he have to be so adorable?

I go into the room and smirk when Troye sees me and pulls down his skirt that he notices has risen up. I crawl into the bed near him and cup his cheek in my palm. He leans his face against my hand. I pull him closer to me slowly. Right when our lips are brushing, Troye shakes his head and yanks himself away from me.

"No," He says, "since you tried to make me take out the trash."

Troye rolls his eyes and leans against the headboard, putting his attention back on the television. I'm stuck staring at him. We agreed to split the chores around the house, so what's the issue? The problem was that Troye was a little brat that only thought about himself. Where was the Troye I had met in the alley a few months ago? And the Troye that asked me to marry him? I don't know who the hell this Troye is.

And I don't like him, either.