"So... tonight at 7?" Jared asked, his deep voice coming out a little staticky through the telephone's receiver.
"Tonight at 7!" I confirmed cheerfully. "See you then!"
"Love you." He proclaimed hastily, and then, before I could get a word in, he hung up with a dull click.
Dammit. My boyfriend and I have a long-running tally on who can say I love you before the other person gets a chance to. He's currently beating me by one point.... just one! He and I both know that it'll bug the crap out of me.
He and I have been together for two years now. We met each other at the Library of Scientific Artifacts and Inventions when he almost made me fall off the stepladder that I was balancing precariously on. I had a stack of books in one hand, and the other hand was holding onto the shelving. The stepladder wasn't that secure, to begin with, and the steam-driven motor powering the ancient thing should've been replaced a long time ago. Jared had turned a corner, and he ran right into the ladder, making the whole thing rock back and forth like it was a drunkard in the streets. The only thing that saved me from making an unwanted appointment with the floor was the fact that my leather jacket got caught on one of the protruding cogs of the ladder.
Jared apologized after he got me down, and then asked me if I wanted to get coffee with him to make up for my mishap. I somewhat reluctantly said yes, and we drove to a coffee shop downtown called Monks after he and I checked out our books. We hit it off almost immediately and things escalated pretty quickly after that, and here we are.
Bong. Bong. Bong. Bong. Bong.
The loud brassy boom of the watchtower clock alerted me to the end of my shift at the chemical plant where I work.
Bidding farewell to my fellow coworkers, I put up the methane gas experiment I was working on, attempted to make my lab a little more presentable by shoving some stray papers under the desk, locked the space, and left. Jumping into my water-powered motorcycle, I barreled down the streets all the way to my how, Jared and our date occupying my thoughts for the whole journey.
Making it home, I quickly unlocked my front door, tossed my purse onto the tea-stained couch, my keys in the general vicinity of the kitchen table, and raced upstairs to my bedroom.
I had two and a half hours to get ready, and I needed every bit of that time.
*time skip brought to you by MTT studios!*
After frantically tossing my clothes around my room, trying to pick what to wear, then searching through those numerous piles of clothes for my glasses, I was finally ready. I know it shouldn't take me about three hours to do that, but I have a lot of clothes and my glasses wanted to stay hidden just to frustrate me today.
Making my way downstairs, I adjusted the thin purple sweater I was wearing over a white shirt and a blue miniskirt with black leggings. Spotting the one bottle of hand sanitizer I bought earlier in the week, I grabbed the bottle and squirted some of the wonderous liquid in my hands.
A knock at the door made me fling the bottle to an unknown place, snatch my purse from the couch and fish my keys out from the empty fishbowl full of a suspicious green liquid that looked like it came from the wrong end of a bilgesnipe. A shake dislodged any of the weird goo that just appeared in my fishbowl one day, and I smoothed my hair down with my other hand. Taking a deep breath, I walked over to the door.
I opened the door as cautiously as possible to avoid breaking the already fragile hinges. I learned my lesson when I banged open the door and it actually flew off it's hinges and impaled itself into my neighbors steam motorcar. I stil haven't repaid them back in full yet. Money's a little tight, espacialy when I'm still paying the ridiculously high taxes imposed by the Council of Elders.
