*Update #2*
🎶HEAVEN🎶 - Julia Michaels
"Would have done anything everything for him, and if you ask me I would do it again."
"He seems nice."
Of course, he was waiting for me.
He had relocated to the couch, lying fully prostrate with a can of Sprite coddled between his thighs. The bag of Doritos was on his chest, the crums all over his shirt. The television hummed in the background, CNN I believe it was.
"Nice enough for you to invite him to dinner it seems."
The door clicked shut behind me and I bent at the waist to remove my heels.
"Was I not allowed to? You guys appear to gell well, and you trust him with Detty so I just assumed."
I sat in the old armchair perpendicular to his propped feet. It creaked like old bones and sunk in on itself like memory foam.
He cracked the can open and took a generous gulp.
"Plus I saw the giant hickey on the side of his neck and figured you the culprit."
"Whaa, I-" I choked.
"Well? Am I wrong?"
My lungs punched their time cards and checked the fück out, leaving me to drown in my humiliation.
He rolled his eyes, "Don't die Joyce."
"I- I'm no-nott," I denied, fighting a hacking cough.
He ignored my mild panic attack.
"I mean, I obviously don't know him well but he came across genuine enough."
I recovered after a few long, deep breaths.
"Is this your stamp of approval?"
"Mmh, I wouldn't go that far. I don't hate him. Let's see how next weekend goes before I submit my evaluation."
"Yessir," I gave a mock salute and scampered away as fast as my stubby legs would let me.
•••
"Are you home?"
"Just walked in." I could hear shuffling on his end: the rustle of clothing, keys jiggling, muted thuds of shoes hitting the floor one by one.
"That-that's good," I sighed, closing my eyes.
"Never realized I was this tired," I could hear him yawning as he moved around.
"You should probably get some sleep," my voice was deeper, huskier.
There was a pause, my heavy breathing filling the silence. "Probably," he said slowly, in the midst of contemplation, "What are you doing Joyce?"
His suspicion was as thick as the humidity fogging up the glass at my back. But the porceline countertop was cool as I sat on the edge of the sink with my thighs spread apart like the continents.
"Starting something I know I'll finish."
I heard the snap of his teeth when his mouth clamped shut.
If that wasn't enough, the sultry moan I let out when my fingers grazed that special spot would have surely given me away.
"Daniel," I mewled, "oh, fück!"
YOU ARE READING
HAPPY | ✔
ChickLitIronically, for someone named after the jolly emotion, Joy is quite sad. But justifiably, she hasn't really had much reason to squeal in happiness these days. Stuck in a job she hates with responsibilities so paramount she feels asphyxiated on a goo...
