c h a p t e r. 17

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"To burn with desire and keep quiet about it is the greatest punishment we can bring on ourselves."
― Federico García Lorca

Sorry for the interruption but storytime:

"Did they kiss yet?" My sister asked me about Bar and Clems after I published the last chapter, her not being sure bc of all the extra not-yet-used scenes I have in my docs (including what their first kiss is going to be).

"Nope," I said back to her. "You made me have them interrupted, remember?"
(this is a fact, btw, I was originally gonna have them kiss at Butterfly land for their date and for a monarch to land on Bar's nose right after— but she suggested otherwise and I got a better idea, oops.)

And this was her beautiful reply:
"Shit. Fuck. Bitch."

This was at like 1 AM you guys, so I wish I could say her being tired or sleep-deprived was why she had such a thoroughly thought through response (sarcasm) but I can't, she's usually like that.

Lol, love you guys (you too sissy)!

Anywaaaaaaays,

chapter 17

Bar was sitting in his living room, wearing a white long sleeve under a black leather jacket with dark washed jeans and combat books, a thick philosophy book between his fingers and his focus was on it almost completely.

The other part of Bar's concentration was using his free hand to pet Culpa, his cat, and keeping his ears keen in case Clementine needed him.

It was the dreaded day of the party and everyone was supposed to meet at Bar's apartment.

The little goddess was already dressed in high waisted black jean shorts with lace, thigh-high fishnet stockings underneath, and a soft blue fitted long sleeve and— just like Bar— she was wearing combat boots but hers were gold instead of black.

Bar thought Clementine looked absolutely beautiful, as she always did, and when he saw her, he honestly had to stop himself from grabbing her by the waist and just kissing her.

Bar sighed, thinking back to their date and his lost opportunity. He felt cheated of a kiss, somehow.

But he also knew the wait would be worth it.

A slam of his front door alerted the brute that someone has just entered his apartment and since they didn't knock and the door was locked, it had to be one of his best friends— they're the only ones with keys.

"Hey," Bar nodded to Law as he entered the living room, a sneaky look in his best friend's eyes.

"Sup, man." Law sunk into the beanbag across from where Bar was reading on the couch. He looks around, eyes locking on the purring cat before moving back to Bar. "What's your girl up to?"

The last time Bar saw the little goddess she was moving her laptop onto his kitchen counter and was seated on a stool, a lollipop stuck in her mouth.

But that was almost an hour ago.

Bar didn't notice the time go by with Culpa next to him and his attention drifted away and onto the book.

Frowning, Bar said, "I actually don't—"

"Oly!" Clementine suddenly screamed, making Bar tense and alert— his hand pausing in Culpa's fur causing the cat to look at his owner reproachfully. "I hate the word sq-squelch! It's worse than m-moist! It's worse I, I hate it!"

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