#but hes a phone so close enuff
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mixalicious · 2 months ago
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kill this guy now
mephone design by @phonification
also shitty suggestive joke under cut
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octuscle · 1 year ago
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Hey Chronivac support, I met up with a friend the other day and I saw his brother for the first time when I picked him up. He’s a really sexy Arab guy. Is there a way I could use Chronivac to make me a really huge Arab stud that his brother would be into and date?
Just use the Chronivac chat function. I'm pretty sure that will end in a date. If you're not too stupid. I'll find out your crush's number somehow and send it to you.
"Sup, bro?" Your hands are getting sweaty. He has actually answered you.
"Everything k w/ u? am i interrupting the wudhu?"
Shit, what does he mean now? But the app answers on its own "Bruh, i pray am and @ noon. Tht must b enuff".
"Dude, thats mor then enuff. I just go 2 the mosque on fridays".
Praying just once a week wouldn't be enough for you. Yes, to be honest, you don't pray twice a day either. But the idea of having his hot ass in front of you on the prayer mat. To start wanking your cut cock.
"Bruh, were r u pumping iron?" Shit again, you know he's super athletic. Unfortunately, you're not really. But again, the app answers for you. And names his gym.
"Rly! bruh, den we must no each other. I pump der 2"
"I dont think so. Im always der b4 sunrise prayers. I wouldve seen u der"
"Machine, bruh. Nah, im der in da evening"
"Den let's make an appointment." Your muscles swell. The morning workout is clearly having an effect on you.
"Bro, I'd love to work out with you in da evening. I just have to make sure it works with barber"
"Im always @ barber in da evening 2. Were do u go?" The app answers again automatically. Again, it's your crush's barber.
"Dude, im der 2. Send pic!" You take a selfie. You try to show off your bold undercut, your massive beard and your plucked eyebrows. And that a little bit of your bare hairy chest is also showing.
"Yo, i no u bruh! ur always @ seifallah's fo' haircuts."
"Correct, bruh. Send pic" As if you needed it. You have lots of pictures of him on your cell phone. But not one like this. His picture goes from the base of his cock to his perfectly styled hair. A picture of a man. But you're hairier. And more muscular.
"Ur mounir! of course i no u. Bruh, lit pic" He switches on Facetime. Bingo!
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"Do you like what you see?" you ask. You can see his arm clearly moving up and down. "Turn your phone down" he replies. You show your bulge in close-up. And start kneading it. A wet patch of precum forms. "Send me your address, I can show you da real thing". His contact details arrive in a fraction of a second. Hmmm. Jeans or caftan. Caftan is quicker. You'll be in the car in five minutes. And in half an hour, your friend's brother will be pulling your panties down with his teeth. Have fun, you two!
The picture of you facetiming with Mounir found @fitbearcatcher
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vanchlo · 4 years ago
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The Assistant / Chapter Forty-Two, “Music To My Ears”
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*Gif is not mine*
Clickable Links:
- *NEW* Becky Magazine Cover from an O.C. Tag Challenge
- Masterlist feat. all chapters and Character Surveys
- Inspo tag
- Hecky Playlist
- Read on Wattpad
Word Count: 8.5k
Warnings: None
Music Inspo: All My Love by George Ezra (click to listen)
                                      SNEAKYYYYYY PEEK
It all feels surreal and so quickly, seeing him there dressed to the nines in another handsome suit. He’s back, and he’s all mine. I don’t quite know how we’re going to do this whole thing, but I can’t fucking wait. I’m unsure of how different it will be at the firm and as his mentee, but I know we’ll make it work. After the last few years of shit we’ve went through, this seems like a piece of cake, or so I hope.
“Morning,” I almost whisper, wishing I was threading my arms around his middle right now and not standing across the room. Instead, they sit flat against my front, hands clasped at my waist. His shiny brunette curls tickle his temples when he looks up fast and over to me, the light of a thousand suns filling his face.
“And so, when a person meets the half that is his very own, then something wonderful happens: the two are struck from their senses by love, by a sense of belonging to one another, and by desire, and they don't want to be separated from one another, not even for a moment.”
― Plato, The Symposium
+
My first attempt is measly, but by the second time, I get it open despite my wildly trembling fingers. The sigh I had been coaxing to remain inside of my lungs finds its way out at last when the door clicks! into the hinges. The blissed out smile I can’t remember being without sticks to my lips as my back graces the door. Somehow, the air inside here smells even sweeter as the fireworks still ignite within my chest. 
I’m only brought back to the present when I hear somebody clear their throat. Opening my eyes, I find Skye waiting on the couch with her knees brought to her chest. 
“So?! That was a long fucking time to be standing out in the hallway just talking, Rebecca Holte!” Skye exclaims with an eagerness filling her cheeks with crimson. 
All that escapes my lips is the happiest laugh I’ve felt my insides flourish in as long as I can remember. Her eyebrows raise with a question posed to me, and I answer it with a mere nod that causes her to shoot out of her seat and over to me. 
“Ree, finally!” she almost screams, and I echo it with my eternal laugh, relaxing into her arms. 
“Yeah . . finally it’s all coming together.”
I have just enough time to recount the details of the event to her in all of its glory. As if on cue, my ‘You’ve Got A Friend In Me’ ringtone begins to sing from my pocket. 
“Ooooo, is that him already?! You better answer it, Ree!” Skye exclaims with eagerness to her voice. The blush finds its way back to my cheeks as I escape with a cheek kiss from her, my feet soon padding down the hallway. 
“Wow, you actually mean it when you said you would call.”
“Why, o’ ‘course I meant it, bug. I always keep me promises,” Harry hums in return, just the sound of his voice launching my heart into somersaults. 
“I see that . . thank you,” I mumble, closing my door behind me softly, in order to deter Skye from eavesdropping anymore than she already is. 
“Can I say sumthin’ weird?” he murmurs, voice sounding far away almost. I blame that discrepancy on his phone paired to his car by Bluetooth, making him feel all the more far away from me. 
“Sure, I like weird. I mean, I like you.”
“Wow, good flirtin’ there, Ms. Hotshot. ‘m really feelin’ all tha love,” Harry titters until it wanders into a soft sigh. He clears his throat and a nervous laugh follows, pulling me to attention. 
“Oh, why thank you . . But, go ahead. What is it, Harry?” I return, falling onto the messy covers of my bed, exiled outfits littering the surface. 
“I already miss you, bug. Hasn’t even been ten minutes and I bloody miss you,” he confesses gently, a sad giggle adorning his words, echoing those that sit within my heart. 
“You’re not the only one, Harry. I miss you too. If we’re gonna be honest with each other, I missed you so much last week, and even more those seven months we didn’t talk, and-” I reveal into my phone, and then into his ears. The anxiousness falls away at my confession, one I’ve been coaxing to remain within my own ears for far too long. I had hinted at it and said it with my lips, but it feels so freeing to finally let the words loose to the world. To him.
My Harry. 
“Tha year afta ya quit . . I know. I missed you like hell durin’ all o’ those times too, it tore me up bein’ away from you,” he continues, pulling the words from my mouth where they leave to inform his ears. “And I want us t’ be honest with each otha, Becks . . Always.”
“I thought I’d never stop missing you during all of those times. And now, here we are,” I say, an ironic and yet happy laugh filling his ears. 
“Yes, here we are, bug. Togetha . . ‘s ‘bout fookin’ time,” he giggles, and like he always has been able to do, he pulls one from my lips with the help of his contagious happiness. “So, back t’ happier things . . Erm, what’re ya doin’ on Sunday?” 
“Eh, probably just watching FRIENDS in my pajamas.” 
“Mmm, I admit that sounds like a ratha wondaful Sunday. Why dontcha come ova t’ mine and watch FRIENDS in yer jammies with me? ‘ll even put on me jammies too,” Harry suggests, further proving that this can actually get better. I didn’t think that was possible.
No, I did not after that incredible first kiss, and second, and third. 
“That sounds amazing, Harry. I’d love to see you in your ‘jammies.’”
“Yers too, bug. ‘d like t’ make dinna fer you, as well,” he continues, knocking me off of my feet once again. 
“Aww. That would be so awesome, Harry! Hey, can you make your chicken pot pie? That pic you sent me from the last time you made it looked so yummy.”
“‘Course, ‘d love t’ make it fer you,” he giggles, the tell tale sounds of traffic accompanying his words. I hear a train toot its horn in the distance, and the rhythmic clicking of his indicator. 
“Okay, great, and I’ll bring dessert.”
“Sounds great, bug. I can’t wait, Sunday can’t come fast enuff,” Harry says, the purring of his engine filling the background. 
“I couldn’t agree more.”
His adorable laugh graces my ears, somehow being too long since the last time I had heard it, “How does 5 sound?” 
“It sounds like a date,” I chirp happily, wondering for the hundredth time if the words that are coming out of my mouth are indeed real. 
Real, they are, sister, the demon living inside the walls of my skull chimes. 
Where ever did you run off to? I reply. 
I’ve been here the whole time, mate, just watching and waiting. I’m usually not big on love, but holy shit, are you two adorable. Go on, now. You’re interrupting my entertainment. 
You stop interrupting! the angel groans back. 
“Hey, ‘m s’posed t’ say that part ‘coz ‘s my date! I said ‘d get tha second date,” Harry pouts from my ear, and I wonder if I’ll ever stop laughing. The better question is if I’ll ever stop smiling. I don’t know the answer to that one, and I think I’m okay not knowing. 
I wonder if I’ll ever stop loving him, and to that question, I already know the answer.
“Oh, sorry,” I chuckle hard now, fueled further by the sound of his clucking tongue, muttering a sarcastic ‘fer God’s sake, Becks.’ “Let’s start over.”
“‘Kay . . How does 5 sound?” he snickers, feigning composure in his voice when it’s needed most. 
“I’ll be there!” 
“Great, it sounds like a date then,” he titters, and soon our laughs mingle together, forming a duet. 
I thought my favorite song in the entire world was his laugh, but now, I think I may be wrong.
+
Surrealness blankets my body like a cloak, invisible, and yet all around me, as I stand in front of that door. The handle of the cloth bag digs into the crook of my elbow while the cold seeps in through my coat. I only grow colder when my fist raises once more, but it falls with a defeated sigh. Fear joins the other emotions fighting for the stage inside of me, and it nearly debilitates me with every second that passes. 
At last, my fist meets the muted scarlet red surface of his front door. A faint ‘c’min!’ sounds from the other side, causing my heart to gallop quicker inside me. A shaky exhale drops from my lips just before I swing the door open, and am met with the comforting smells of home cooking. I see him before he sees me, and the sight itself takes away the anxiety I’ve felt all day for this moment. For tonight. You’d think I’d have been more nervous for the first date than the second date. Nope, here I am nervous as can be standing in the doorway of his home, a bundle of nerves. 
Harry couldn’t look more adorable, or handsome, kneading his bottom lip while steam wafts along his face. Adjusting the yellow tea towel strewn over his shoulder, he closes a cookbook before his eyes dart over to me. His lips injected with golden sunshine reach his ears and the dazzle returns to his eyes dripping with green. 
“Hey, bug,” he hums, setting down the towel on the counter. The concoction of onions, herbs, and chicken tickles my nose while my heart races just at the sight of him. It does a few dances at the memory of our last date, and just how it ended. 
“Hi, Harry. It smells incredible in here,” I say, greeting him. After closing the door, I toe off my shoes to sit on the mat by the door. 
“Thanks, babe. Dinna’s all ready, I jus’ took tha pot pie out a few minutes ago,” he grins, coming to a stop in front of me with that sunshiney smile. The cover of Fleetwood Mac’s ‘Rumors’ album dons his cream shirt in black and white. His long legs and bum tempt my thoughts in the form-fitting black joggers he wears. 
“Hey, you’re not wearing pajamas like you said,” I tease when he pulls me into a hug, feigning annoyance when that’s something I could never feel in this moment. 
“Neitha are you, li’l one. I can’t wear bloody jammies on a second date, ‘s far too soon. I still gotta make a good first impression,” Harry replies, the joking words brushing against my temple. Laughing, a shiver courses across my body but soon disappears once his arms settle to hold me against him. 
“I think that’s pretty far gone, that first impression thing,” I counter playfully, hesitantly removing my face from the crook of his neck to find his playful eyes waiting for me. 
“Doesn’t hurt t’ try, bug,” he giggles, and no matter how much I adore the sound, I can’t stand it any longer and steal it away with my lips. A similar giggle of my own is muffled against his lips that taste like nothing I’ve ever tasted before. They taste like him, I realize silently and happily. 
Our happy sounds mingle together while his lips mold against mine. They grow especially when he struggles to remove the bag from the crook of my arm, belatedly setting it down on the floor, allowing me to wrap both arms around him. The point of my nose dances across his prickly cheek when I pull away just slightly to surround his top lip with my own. The feeling of his prickly upper lip surprises my own, and leads my hand to caress his cheek. Smattering of vanilla sticks to his skin in spots while his warm breaths brush against my skin. The thrumming of my heart grows when I feel the lukewarm metal of his rings against my lower back, and then wandering in my hair. 
The feeling of his pillowy, soft lips are a thing of the past when he pulls away with a titter against mine. A soft question tumbles from my lips but he doesn’t answer it, instead pressing a whispery peck to my lips that still crave his. 
“Missed you,” he rasps, my skin igniting with sparks when his soft thumb pulls my bottom lip down, only to spring back. 
“I missed you more,” I argue and his cherry lips fall into disbelief. 
“Hey, that’s my line!” he exclaims, and I only laugh, realizing the trick I pulled. His happy song soon ghosts over my face, trailing behind his nose that draws a line against my cheek. “My Becks,” he coos in a whisper, ending his sentence with a punctuating kiss to my temple. 
“Harry . . My Harry,” I echo, accentuated by my hand running through his hair that is especially curly today. 
“‘m all yers, babe, have been fer longer than ya know,” he agrees aloud, escaping to the crook of my neck where his lips leave whispers below my ear and up my neck. 
The words themselves make my heart swell with what else other than love. It finds its way past my lips in a happy chuckle against his hair, and in another kiss pressed to his sunshine lips once he’s looking at me again. 
The temptation of one-upping him escalates within me, but I resist, unable to make a joke in this second. No, not after what he just said and the echoing words bubbling up inside of me. 
“I never could be anything but yours, Harry, it’s always been that way,” I smile, welcoming the truth and reality laced throughout my voice. The words resound in my heart louder, spreading throughout my body as I observe them fill his ears. A glow claims his eyes and then his lips, the dimples in his cheeks threatening to never leave. 
“You’ll neva know jus’ how happy ya make me, Becks, and how much ‘s magnified jus’ in tha last few days, bug. Yer me favourite person all ova again,” Harry mumbles in between blissed out smiles, one I haven’t had the pleasure to meet yet in all of our times together. No, I don’t think so. Spoiled, I am. “Let’s go eat dinna, bug. We can kiss mo’ later,” he rasps against my cheek, stealing one more kiss from my grinning lips. I nod, listening to his breathy laugh that I missed more than I realized while he was gone. 
My hand falls into his naturally, and he gives it a firm squeeze. Here he is, back with me, and he’s everything I’ve always wanted. This, is everything. 
“You’ve always been my everything, you just didn’t know it. Sometimes, I forgot it too,” I confess in a mere whisper, words interrupted soon by his. I only wish I had the courage that he does to speak them, loud and proudly. 
“What was that?” he mumbles, leading me over to the oval shaped wooden table on the other side of the kitchen island. 
“Nothing.”
“No, I heard ya say sumthin’, jus’ couldn’t make it out,” Harry insists, coming to a halt at one of the chairs. Luminescent moonlight trickles in from the almost closed drapes on the sliding deck doors opposite of us. Shaking my head nervously, a dominant blush attacks his teasing cheeks. “Ya gotta tell me, bug.”
“I don’t have to tell you anything!” I joke, and a high-pitched scoff adorns his lips quickly. A giggle spills from my mouth to greet the air when he yanks me into his arms, fingertips assaulting my sensitive ribs. 
“Becks! Stop playin’ hard t’ get, li’l one. We’re past that now,” he exclaims, feigning authority, but I can hear the affability shining in his deep voice. Laughs explode from my lips until they slowly die away, finding safety where I always do, hiding my face in the crook of his warm neck. 
“Or are we?” I titter against the pulsing, freckled skin. My lips shake louder when another offended scoff greets the air, feeding my laughter only more. 
“No, we aren’t, ya brat,” he pouts, and any worries I had are dispelled when his nose tickles my hairline. “Now, why can’t ya tell me what ya said? I wantcha t’ know ya can tell me anythin’ in tha world, Becks . . Promise.” 
“It’s kinda scary to say,” I admit, wondering about these lengths I’ve suddenly gone to that he somehow jumped within moments. He soothes the worries with his long fingers doting stripes up and down my back. 
“Ya can tell me scary stuff too, bug. Anythin’ at all. Could neva be mad at you when ya make me so bloomin’ happy without hardly doin’ a thing.”
A breathy laugh graces my lips now, muffled by the place where his neck and his broad shoulder meet. He remains silent, and the only sound I hear is that of his rhythmic breathing that does wonders for relaxing me in this crazed moment. His lips feathery against the top of my head do it for me, unraveling the ribbon that tied my not-so-secret together. 
“You’ve always been my everything, Harry . . you just didn’t know it, but I did,” I admit, taking my time enunciating every word into the confines of him. 
“‘ve always wondered, Becks, think it was coz ya’ve been me everythin’ longa than I can rememba,” he comments, taking my breath away with little to no effort, something he’s entirely too good at as of recently. “Thank you, babe,” he finishes adamantly, moving away and in the process, drawing my eyes upwards and towards his captivating greens. 
“Thank you, I’ve wanted this for so long.”
“‘ve wanted it mo’,” he giggles, and I ruffle a hand through his hair to mess it up. 
“Stop it with the one-upping! You ruined the sentiment, Styles,” I exclaim, mouth falling into an exaggerated pout. His laugh disappears quickly, soon brushing my ears when it’s his turn to dive into my neck. ‘Sorrys’ meet my ears and are soon reciprocated with ‘okays’ and a squeeze from my arms around his middle. 
“But I do mean it, Becks. It wasn’t love at first sight really, but bloody hell, ya sure roped me in fast when ya wouldn’t take me shit. Ya became me best friend befo’ I knew it was happenin.’ I knew ya were sumthin’ different altogetha, I jus’ realized it too late,” Harry confesses softly below my ear, and for the first time since noticing those sad songs on his phone, sorrow wrenches at my heart. I had forgotten what it had felt like, the seeds of our relationship finally growing within my heart that’s been filled to the brim with happiness all of a sudden. “You neva once stopped bein’ me everythin’, Rebecca Ann Holte . . I neva wantcha t’ fo’get that . . ‘m sorry if I eva made ya feel othawise . . ‘m so bloody mad ‘bout you, and I can finally tell ya all ‘bout it.”
The right words escape me, like they so often do, a quality he luckily doesn’t possess, especially after everything he just said. Instead, I leave my hiding place wrapped up in safety, and press at the back of his neck until my lips are against his. 
“Mad ‘bout me as well, are we?” Harry asks, the question dancing across my lips in between kisses. 
A joke sits on my lips, ready to fire, while the shocks of caramel glow in his sage irises. Multitudes of feelings consume my words and pump me full of happiness, all thanks to the face I finally get to melt at the sight of. The face I finally get to call all mine, and cover with kisses too. I don’t know which is better.
“More and more every day,” I admit at last, letting the reaction unfold on his face framed by dark facial hair. No longer is it just stubble, and the realization excites me, leading me to wonder what he’ll look like with a proper beard. 
Quickly, the anticipation grows and then settles, resting assured that I'll get to be there to see it happen. I’ll get to see so much of his life happen, and get to share mine with him as he stands at my side.
“Couldn’t have said it betta meself,” Harry grins, planting one last kiss on the very tip of my nose. “Let’s go have some dinna and watch FRIENDS, Boops.”
+
“Ya really can’t disappoint me when it comes t’ baked goods, y’know that? Oh, and if they’re chocolate, that too. Yer really settin’ tha bar high here, Becks.”
“Why do you make that sound like a bad thing?” I say, turning my palm up in question that dissolves with the same happy sound that surrounds his lips. 
Shrugging his shoulders, another bite of the chocolatey bread passes his rosebud lips. The sounds I make only grow louder at the fake crying expression claiming his face, “Means ya gotta keep bakin’ me stuff, and bloody hell, mo’ o’ this chocolate banana bread, please. Two o’ me favourite things in one right here.”
“You can keep the loaf, Harry. I have another at home.”
“Oh, so when I run outta mine, I can jus’ come ova t’ yers and help finish that one off then?” he questions, licking streaks of chocolate from his thumb.
My God, you’re such a fucking tease, Harry.
Chill it, would you?
Who? Him or you? the demon chuckles
Fuck, probably both.
“Sure,” I respond, eyes following his long figure that leaves my side to wander to the kitchen. “You can come over anytime you want . . How does Tuesday night sound? I’ll make you dinner, and there will be more chocolate banana bread for you.”
“And mo’ watchin’ FRIENDS in our not so jammies with wine and loads o’ blankets?” he hums from the kitchen, the sloshing of a liquid into a glass following his words. 
“Yeah, of course.”
“Good, ‘ssa date then,” Harry chimes, returning to the sofa to slip underneath the multicolored quilt I’m tucked underneath. “A third date.”
“Whiskey now too? I thought you liked the wine,” I laugh, confused after my eyes had danced over to him where he sips from an old-fashioned glass. 
“I do, but ‘s not strong enough. Plus, ‘s yer Rebecca wine that I didn’t wanna drink all up.”
“What are you talking about, Harry?” I chuckle, scooting closer to him after he mumbles something I can’t hear.
“‘m nervous ‘round you,” he says again, louder this time before the amber liquid passes his lips once more. His eyes remain staring forward at the television where Monica and Rachel argue in the apartment. 
“You are too?” I wonder aloud, ever so softly, but there’s just enough volume in my voice to pull his eyes over to me. A nod fulfills his words while one corner of his mouth lifts slightly, bottom lip trapped between his teeth. Surprise, surprise. “Why are you nervous? You’ve been so much fun all night, and the food was wonderful.”
“Why d’ya think? New relationship jitters - I don’t wanna mess anythin’ up,” he confesses shyly with a short smile overflowing with conflict. 
A ‘hey’ plummets from my lips without permission as I scooch closer to him, closing the distance until there’s no more steps I can take. My arm winds around his bicep, my other hooking my finger under his chin to get him to look at me. 
“You’re not going to mess anything up, that’s my job,” I tell him adamantly, pleased at the sound of his smallest of laughs. “I’m nervous too, like all of the time. I don’t want to screw this up either, but I’ve spent so many years wanting this with you - to be sitting on your sofa together at your house watching FRIENDS laughing together, and getting to kiss you, that I’m not just going to sit here and let it get the best of me. You shouldn’t either, Harry,” I tell him, my hand finding its way to him unsurprisingly. 
He leans into my hand that caresses his cheek, the pad of my thumb moving back and forth over his abrasive stubble. A ‘but’ jumps from his lips, but I don’t let any others follow when I place my lips on top of his. 
“Ya always know what t’ say, dontcha, bug?” Harry coos, flitting his eyes to mine under the shelter of his dense eyelashes.
“I thought you had that claimed, not me. That’s something you have to teach me. I swear, you have a way with words.”
“Dunno whatcha yer talkin’ ‘bout, love,” he tuts, shaking his head as he pulls me against his side, arm winding around my shoulder. 
“Look at that, you got the first ‘arm around the shoulder.’”
“No duh I did, ‘s tha man’s job,” he jokes, voice contorting into a deeper one that leaks with humor. My head heavy with dreams falls to his shoulder, and my hand strays to his chest. 
His hand brushes against my cheek, yanking my attention away from the show and to his patient eyes. He winks at me, followed by dipping down to press a kiss to the top of my head. 
“Alright?” I pose to him, taking a page from his book. 
“Can’t rememba tha last time I felt this ‘alright,’” he answers, the smile trickling into his eyes. “And you, bug?”
“I’m more than alright,” I comment, letting my eyes fall shut when he bumps his forehead against mine affectionately. A content sigh of mine, the first in a long time, tickles his chest as he falls back against the cushions. His fingernails leave zings of electricity among my arm underneath the fabric of my jumper, and soon they shoot across my head when his chin comes to rest there. 
“Which one ‘s this ‘gain?” he hums from above me, the words rumbling through his chest. The thum...thum of his heart resumes underneath my ear, and I feel as if I could fall asleep right here and now. 
“The One with the Candy Hearts,” I answer after pressing a button on the remote, hearing an ‘mmmm’ from his lips. 
“Could eat you up like a candy heart, yer so bloody cute,” he titters with words pointed at me, and I echo his happy sound. “Fook, it feels so good t’ finally get t’ say all tha cheesy flirtin’ rubbish I want t’ ya, Becks.”
“The feeling’s mutual,” I murmur chuckling, words soon stolen away by a yawn that ends with a smile when he scatters kisses along my cheek. 
“Don’t fall asleep now, bug. I might jus’ continue watchin’ tha rest o’ tha episode without you, like a certain sumbody I know,” Harry jests playfully, the most perfect sound igniting sparks across my cheek where his words land. “‘m kiddin. If ya need some shut-eye ‘s okay, ‘ll tell ya what happened when ya wake up, bug. I wouldn’t leave me favourite person out like that, not eeva.”
“Thanks,” I giggle, allowing my hand to stray to a chestnut ringlet that tickles his forehead. It draws his attention to my touch, and next, I find his green eyes with my own. “Harry, I have a request.”
“Ya, li’l one?” he hums in response, quirking an eyebrow in accompaniment. 
“After the episode is done, can we listen to some of your old records and paint each other’s nails?” I pose, the nerves peaking through in my voice. The approval pulls his lips up towards his cheeks once again, and I truly don’t think I could ever get sick of that smile.
Never, ever. 
“‘d love that, Becks. ‘ll hafta play some o’ me favourites fer ya.”
Sometimes, like in this very moment, I can’t remember there ever being a time when you stopped being my favorite person. There certainly were times, but they seem like other realities now, especially now that I know there’s no possibility that it could ever stop being you, Harry. It has always been you, and it will continue to always be you.
My Harry.
+
The sight in front of me still manages to baffle me, and it throws me for a further loop when I press my lips to her temple. She lets me, with the smallest of smiles gracing her blush lips. At times, it all feels like I’m in one of my dreams, until I realize that I indeed am living one of them. 
It’s about fucking time. 
Chandler and Joey bicker about something on the telly, but try as I might, I can’t get myself to focus on it. I didn’t miss a beat during the last episode, but now with the whiskey and wine coursing through me, the fear has fallen away. Her skin is warm against my lips, and the vanilla-orange blossom scent that she’s drenched in surrounds me. The easiest of smiles finds its way to my lips once again, and grows larger as I let my forehead meet her head.
“You’re supposed to be watching,” she whispers from below me, a soft amusement carrying her words. Opening my eyes, I find her long eyelashes flutter. Her scent trickles away when she moves her head, looking up at me curiously. The hint of a smile that’s been stuck to her lips ignites once again, keeping the fire alive within my heart. 
“What? ‘m good at multitaskin’,” I insist, knowing by now that we both can tell when the other is lying. 
“No, you aren’t. That’s why you get so little done on the days you bring your guitar to work,” Becks responds, widening her eyes a little at me to emphasize her words. 
“Rude,” I remark, but it’s stolen away by giggles. Hers and mine, and it might be the best sound I’ve ever had the pleasure of hearing. 
As the seconds tick on, I keep wondering when I’m going to wake up and the dream will be over. When I close the small distance between us, catching her lips with my own, I hope I never have to wake up. They’re like honey against my own, sweet and golden. The taste of her fills me and for what must be the tenth time now, her top lip tastes better than I could have ever imagined. It fits between my own like a jigsaw piece, affirming my notions I’ve had about this girl for years on end. 
Her decadent giggle grazes my ears when her ocean blue eyes fill my own again. I can’t help but join her, taking part in all of these things with her. I’m beside myself with how so goddamn right they feel. The smile that my lips haven’t been without for days now is mirrored on her own, the very pair that I’m still amazed I just got to kiss. The lips I’ve been dying to kiss for the last two, incredibly long, years. 
“What are you thinking about, thumbing at your lip like that?” she wonders aloud, my very favourite voice in this entire world. Cocking her head to the side, she stares up at me. The warmth inside of me spreads amongst my limbs, tingling at the end of my fingers where one of her dark curls wraps around it. Too much like the way she’s had me wrapped around hers ever since that very first day I called her ‘Becks.’
It was history after that, they say. 
“Jus’ rememba’d an old friend I ran into tha otha day. ‘s a story you’d like,” I respond, enjoying the way the light catches the dark and light flecks of blue in her irises. The Holte Blue Eyes, they appear to be, and I can’t stop myself from thinking what a child of mine would look like with those blue eyes. 
“Who’s that?” she smiles, tipping her head to rest on my arm wound around her shoulder. The pads of my fingers explore her back, drawing shapes over her too adorable olive green knitted jumper. 
“Alcott- Professor Alcott,” I answer, observing the connection echoing in her eyes. Nodding, her blues remain perked up at me. I can’t think of a better sight in this whole universe, and it brings happiness to my lips like she can do without hardly trying. “That day I ran into you at tha market, I saw him there right afta. I guess it was a good day fer run-ins with old friends.”
My subsequent out of place laugh pulls her natural eyebrows together in question, one that she soon vocalizes, “What’s so funny, Harry?” 
“‘s not so much funny as jus’ . . I dunno, ratha perfect,” I answer, and the happiness spilling from her lips is accompanied by a raise of her eyebrows. “When I saw him afta I spoke t’ yer class that one day, tha first time ‘d seen ya in almost a year . . I erm, asked him ‘bout you. I had no bloody idea ya were goin’ back t’ finish yer LLB, and so I was full o’ questions afta seein’ you in his class. He had all good things t’ say ‘bout you, big surprise, and there was this one thing he said that I never forgot ‘bout.”
“Yeah, what’s that?” Becks says, almost on the edge of her seat at the revelation of my story. “Harry,” she giggles when I take too long to respond.
It doesn’t have anything to do with reluctance, but more so because of how fucked I am right now losing myself in her eyes. Those blues, my God. The thought continues to unravel, and my smile fills out at its discovery.
I really do hope that my children get to have those blue eyes of hers one day, they’re the most gorgeous color I’ve ever seen. 
“Sorry . . He said sumthin’ ‘bout you comin’ back t’ work at me firm once ya graduated. ‘Circle of Life,’ he called it, so it was funny when I ran into him at tha market. I was beside meself with glee gettin’ t’ tell him that you did indeed come back t’ work with me. He was happy t’ hear it and ‘s very proud o’ you, as am I,” I share, and the confession plants the dimple into her left cheek.
After all of this time, I think I’ve figured it out. I can only find it there when the happiness engulfs her, surprising her with its intensity, letting the dimple out of hiding. 
“And did you tell him?” she ponders, now getting all shy on me by averting her eyes. I don’t think I have much to complain about, seeing how she’s tracing the outline of a tattoo on my forearm. A ‘what’ whispers from my lips as the curl relaxes around my finger, and my hand wanders to her cheek, pulling her back to me. “That you had a crush on me?”
“I did, ya, but I don’t think that’s how I phrased it,” I chuckle, finding the redness in her cheeks that also sit in mine. “Don’t think ‘d call it that, would you?”
Her answer is sufficed by a shrug of her shoulders, and quickly I’m losing my lips in the brown freckles scattered across her neck. My name flies from hers in a titter as my arms surround her. 
“Hmmm?” I hum against her skin, finding the hollow below her ear with my eager lips.
“No, I guess I wouldn’t call it that, either,” she laughs, the words vibrating beneath my lips. Letting my eyes fall closed, I lean into her and feel her curl up against me. “It’s far more than that,” Becks says softly, carding a hand through my curls. Bringing me forth, I move away from her to find those ocean deep eyes sitting on me. An honor, indeed.
Bloody hell, what a fucking honor it would be if my children had that twinkle in their eye and that song in their laugh, too. As well as that one little cheek dimple, just like Becks.
I don’t even care at this point how carried away I’m getting.
“Sure ‘s, bug,” I murmur, my surroundings soon cloaked in darkness when her lips find mine. Her hair falls through my fingers like buttery taffy when it finds the back of her head. Her lips taste like strawberries and sunshine, and not even because of the wine. Specks of chocolate hide in them, surprising me with their sweetness, just like she keeps doing to me.
I may never get over how sweet my little bug is, and that’s just fine with me, because I finally have all of the time I want to get used to it. Although I’m unsure if it will ever be enough, I know that Becky undoubtedly is.
A laugh sputters from her lips, bringing an end to our kiss.
“What’re you laughin’ ‘bout, Rebecca?” I snicker, nudging my nose against hers, stealing another peck from her candy coated lips.
“First, you saying my name like that, and secondly, keep playing with my hair,” is all she says, joined by her head falling to my chest. The disappointment at the absence of her lips is short when I’m again amazed by how effortlessly she gets me going with her head on my chest.
“Why ‘s that funny?” I ask, keeping my word and letting her satiny waves run through my fingers. Glancing away, I find her eyes flutter closed against the fabric of my shirt. The weight of her on my front feels comforting, and so does this entire thing. It’s just comforting the mere fact of her being here with me, and in my arms.
I still have a hard time believing my eyes.
“You’ll see.”
A question knits my brows together as I giggle, combing my hand through the front of her hair until I reach its end moments later, sorting out the snarls. Her breathing begins to slow and her body stills against mine.
“Becks, dontch’u fall asleep on me, bug. Our episode isn’t ova quite yet,” I snicker. The champagne bubbles that have filled my insides over the last few weeks climb higher and higher when her lips mirror the action.
“I will if you keep playing with my hair.”
“Ah, so ‘ve found yer weakness, have I?” I reply, looking down and placing my puckered lips on the crown of her head.
“Mmmhmm, it’s always been able to lull me to sleep, and relax me. My dad always did it when I was little.”
“Noted,” I murmur against her hair, letting my cheek fall to rest atop her head. My arms sing when they embrace her, welcoming the familiarity they find.
“Doesn’t help that yer a proper li’l heater too, yer makin’ me wanna fall asleep now too, bug. ‘s only six-thirty,” I yawn, my eyelids growing heavy as she snuggles into me. 
“Then take a little cat nap with me, Harry,” Becks yawns, burrowing deeper into the hollow of my neck. “I’ll keep you warm.”
“‘Kay, ‘ll just shut me eyes . . fer a few minutes,” I drawl, knowing that the slow rise of her chest on mine will soon take me away into dreamland.
I don’t know what I could possibly dream about that’s better than this, though. Perhaps little dark haired babies with her blue eyes and dimples set into their cheeks, sat upon her lap.
Oh, please.
+
A feeling that I had hoped and dreamed years for, sticks with each step I take the next morning after getting off onto Seventeen. I haven’t been able to kick the smile that arrived on my lips the moment I parked my car, and my cheeks have only grown more tired since then. 
Like every other morning, he’s nowhere to be found. Missing in action. Although I sat at his side with his arm around me until nine o’clock last night, my heart aches for him worse than any other morning at work. 
I spend no time dropping off my own messenger bag in my office, along with my lunch and thermos of coffee. My heart speeds up its racing when I slip into his office searching for him to no avail.
I’m ready to throw in the towel until I remember his not so hiding place from last time, and once again, there I find him with a stack of papers in his hands. A smile winds its way up my lips at the sight of him pressing his lips together, creating comical popping noises. 
It all feels surreal and so quickly, seeing him there dressed to the nines in another handsome suit. He’s back, and he’s all mine. I don’t quite know how we’re going to do this whole thing, but I can’t fucking wait. I’m unsure of how different it will be at the firm and as his mentee, but I know we’ll make it work.
After the last few years of shit we’ve went through, this seems like a piece of cake, or so I hope. 
“Morning,” I almost whisper, wishing I was threading my arms around his middle right now and not standing across the room. Instead, they sit flat against my front, hands clasped at my waist. His shiny brunette curls tickle his temples when he looks up fast and over to me, the light of a thousand suns filling his face. 
“G’mornin’, bug. What’re ya doin’ all tha way ova there, huh, why’re you bein’ a stranger?” Harry grins, waving a hand over to me while the large copier makes whirring noises, taking his document away. 
A nervous laugh tumbles from me as I take slow steps over to him, unsure if the smile climbing his cheeks at the mere sight of me is true. 
I wonder if seeing is believing. 
“C’mere, ya slow poke,” he titters, holding out an arm towards me. Finally, my heart begins to slow down. It only truly does once my cheek touches his shoulder and our arms settle around the other. “Mornin’, my Becks. Sumbody looks tired, I see. ‘m sorry I kept ya up last night with our texts.” 
“It’s okay,” I yawn, tipping my head towards his eyes that await mine. “I had lots of fun talking to you about all sorts of things after I got home.”
“So did I, bug, so did I,” he agrees, leaving a whispery kiss on my forehead with his lips that smell of coconut chapstick. Hmm, I wonder if they taste like coconut too, and the budding thought stirs up a craving I’ve had for his lips since I woke this morning. “Don’t be fallin’ asleep on me t’day, tho’. We have work t’ do.”
“Hey, you stole my line!” I giggle, staring up at him through my lashes doused in a few extra coats of mascara. 
“Seems we’re even then,” he grins with a cheeky wink, earning a nod from me. The dimples remain in his cheeks marked by the stubble that I’m coming to like more and more, a sure surprise to me. “Ya look gorgeous once again, bug. There’s jus’ sumthin’ ‘bout ya in yer lawyer getup that gets me goin’,” he chuckles, the last few words muffled against my cheek. A blush rises on my own and I move ever so slowly until his lips are a breath away from mine. 
“Now you know how I’ve felt all of these years,” I admit breathlessly, the mere sight of him stripping the breath from my lungs. 
“Do I now, li’l one?” he teases, brushing the back of his finger against my cheek. His cheeks soon match mine with a warm pink that fills my eyes before he envelopes my lips with his own, finally. They’re smooth and pillowy against mine, and within moments, I taste the coconut chapstick coating them. 
The notifying bleep! of the copier nudges at my ears, but the sound of a voice outside the door pulls me away from his lips. A glint sits in his eyes when I find the courage to meet them before turning around. I’ve put only a few feet in between us when I hear the click! of the door opening, and Rose’s sing-song voice. 
“Are we hiding from our job in the copier room, again? If you’re doing it, then it must be okay for me to do it too,” she jokes, her fiery waves tickling the jade fabric of her long sleeved blouse. 
“Hey, don’t be puttin' words in me mouth,” Harry scoffs. With a new glossy black folder I found on the supply shelf, I turn around to find Rose rolling her eyes at him. 
“I don’t know how you do it spending every minute of every work day with him. Four hours, give or take, a week spent with him is enough for me,” she sighs jokingly, her words wrapped up with a wink. An amused smile curls at the edge of my lips as I face her, nervously tapping the folder against my thigh. 
“I don’t know how I do it sometimes, either,” I sigh, throwing up my hands in a shrug. 
“Hey, would you two stop gangin’ up on me? Bloody hell, ‘m yer boss,” Harry exclaims in utter disbelief, but by now I hardly have to listen for the tell tale signs of sarcasm in his caramel voice. I know that they’re already there.
“Oooo, I’m so scared,” Rose whines, yanking a laugh from my lips as she dunks a hand into the open box of pens on a shelf. “I swear, Myles nicks all of the good pens when they come in, it’s no fair.” 
“Maybe you could trade him some for your Styles and Lawson coffee mug,” I suggest with another laugh bubbling within my voice, soon joined by Rose’s loud laugh.
“Good one, Becky,” she chuckles, her long gold earrings dancing with her movements. “Have I told you yet that I’m glad you hired her again?” she poses to Harry with a smile. When I follow her eyes, I’m rewarded with Harry’s glimmering pair. No longer is a smirk waiting in them for me, but something else entirely, and it’s that very sparkle he let loose for me just a couple days ago. 
“I think ya have, once or twice,” he hums softly. “Can’t blame ya tho’, she’s a riot, alright. Pretty happy meself fer bringin’ her back.”
Oh, Harry, the things you can do to me with just a few words. And I know that you’re well aware of just that. 
“Those mugs, though. I don’t know, Myles must have ordered a hundred of them when the firm was born, because I get one every year for Christmas without fail,” Rose mutters, taking apart the empty pen box before tossing it in the recycling bin. 
“Don’t look at me, I tell him tha very same things - that they’re cheesy, tha font isn’t even right, and that we need t’ order new ones if he’s so keen on givin’ ‘em out,” Harry argues, holding his hands up in defense. 
“Yeah, keep talking, Harry. As if you’re not drinking out of one this very second with that shit-eating grin on your face,” she responds, and a laugh sputters from my lips without my approval. Harry’s eyes cast over to me and he shakes his head at me with narrowed eyes, over his onyx colored mug. It’s all for show, and soon he’s winking at me. 
“Good luck with spending forty hours a week with this one. I think you’re stuck with him, you poor thing,” she remarks, clucking her tongue as she slaps the pen against her palm rhythmically. 
“Yeah,” I huff, dragging my eyes over to Harry with a smile absent from my face. “I don’t know how I’m going to do it either, I’m stuck with him for a few years at least.”
“You better get out while you still can!” she jests with faux wariness injected into her voice. Laughing, she slips out through the door as my eyes fall to the floor. I try to hide the amused sounds escaping my lips, but I find them growing louder as his footsteps sound in my ears. 
“So, yer ‘stuck with me,’ are ya now?” Harry rasps from behind me. I nearly rise off the floor when his fingers dance along my sides, eliciting surprised shrieks into the air. 
“Harry!” I exclaim, goosebumps forming along my neck when his breathy laughs coast over the skin. “Yeah, I guess I am.” 
“‘m ratha happy ya are, y’know.”
“So am I. I wouldn’t have it any other way,” I respond, spinning around to find his smirking lips once more. Unlike his, mine slowly plummet and too soon, I find his doing the same. 
“Neitha would I, bug, but . . how come ya don’t sound too sure o’ that?”
“I am, I don’t know what you mean,” I say, sheepishly. Not helping my case, my eyes fall to his hands. The typical rings don most of his long fingers dotted with dark hairs. I mingle my own with his by lacing ours together. 
“Y’know, ‘ve been able t’ tell when yer lyin’ fer years now, ya don’t have me fooled. You look away and don’t say much when yer lyin,’ they’re yer poker ‘tells’ . . .  Now, what’s tha matta, Becks?” he hums gently. A breath catches in my chest when the callused tip of his finger ghosts along my cheek, replacing a strand of hair behind my ear. “Becks?” he asks once more, and I hear it. I recognize it, because it’s the very emotion threatening to consume the happiness that’s been drenching my insides.
Fear. 
“How are we going to do this, Harry?” I question, finally lifting my eyes to his. “I don’t want this to sound bad, because I want this more than anything, so please don’t be upset. I-,” I try to explain, but he doesn’t give me the chance to continue. Unlike all of those times he stepped on my toes when I first met him, he’s doing a fine job of wishing those away with none other than his lips. 
His velvety aegean blazer is satiny beneath my fingertips when I gather the front of it into my palms, pulling him closer. I feel his smirk against my lips, but all too soon it’s not long enough and he’s pulling away. His dimples fill my eyes and next, those shiny green eyes consume my sight. 
“Jus’ like this, like we’ve been doin’. Behind closed doors, my love,” he mumbles, sealing the words with a soft peck. Those very two words send shivers down my spine, and zings of electricity right to my heart. “I wanna show ya off here, believe me I do, but at work I think ‘s betta if we keep it professional in front o’ e’rybody else,” he explains, and the second the horses leave the gates, I’m nodding along with him. A relieved sigh blankets the air in front of me when I’m graced with the knowledge that he too agrees. “I know it blows and it’ll be hard, but ‘s fer tha best, Becks. Outside o’ work and behind closed doors tho’, anythin’s game . . . Alright?”
“Yeah, I’m more than alright. I was thinking the same thing . . I’m here to be your mentee and to learn from you so I can one day, hopefully, be even half as good of a lawyer as you . . Dating you is just a bonus.”
Scarlet engulfs his golden skin while my favorite song in the entire universe tickles my ears, “I couldn’t agree mo’, li’l one. We got some fun in store fer us, that’s fer sure,” he rasps, pulling me against his front, and there, I melt like I did for the very first time, all those years ago.
I hold onto him tightly, never wanting to let him go. 
No, never again, will I. There’s nothing in this world that could ever take him away from me again, I won’t let it. 
21 notes · View notes
meenasmoon · 8 years ago
Note
Ash: "hey Johnny, wanna know what's worse than being a third wheel?" Johnny: "Sure, Ash, what's worse?" Ash: "being third wheel to tWO MORONS WHO WONT ADMIT THEIR A COUPLE!" (Not really a prompt... Idk)
I know that this technically wasn’t a prompt but I couldn’t stop laughing as I imagined this scene so I couldn’t resist making a little oneshot for you guys. Enjoy! 
Oh, and keep those asks coming. I will be fulfilling as many as I can every weekend.
Frustration
“You’re coming to dinner with us after rehearsal right Ash?” Meena asked eagerly as she watched her friend pack up her guitar and various pieces of sheet music that were covered in Ash’s scribblings.
“Sure Meena. Who is us?” Ash asked as she led the elephant out of her practice room, shutting off the lights as they walked out.
“Well um…Me and Johnny.” she smiled nervously and Ash sighed inwardly. Despite her frustration she maintained the friendly smile on her face, she wouldn’t dare upset Meena. Her best friend was just too sensitive to other’s disappointment and the last thing Ash ever wanted to do was make Meena sad. Now that she thought about it that was probably the reason Johnny sent Meena to ask her rather than coming himself.
“Sounds like a good time. Where are we headed?” Ash assumed that they would be headed to their usual haunt, a diner a couple blocks away that served the best milkshakes in town. Johnny was a sucker for a good peanut butter and chocolate milkshake with whipped cream and a cherry. The gorilla regressed back to his childhood as soon as the milkshake appeared in front of him. It was actually pretty funny to see it happen.
“Probably the Starlight Diner.” Meena shrugged and her eyes glazed over for a second as her thoughts obviously turned towards Johnny. “Johnny really wants one of those milkshakes so it’s gonna be perfect. At least if that’s okay with you?” she gave Ash a pleading look and Ash smiled back up at her.
“C’mon Meena you know I love their wildberry salad.” she elbowed her friend playfully and Meena’s smile grew.
“Great!” Meena clapped eagerly and rushed ahead of Ash to find Johnny. After she was out of earshot Ash groaned and slumped a little bit, having her own mini fit there in the hall.
She froze when she heard a light chuckle behind her and she spun around to find Rosita watching her with an amused look on her face. “Young lady what in the world was that?” she laughed, pursing her lips in an attempt to appear stern.
“I’m being dragged on another unofficial date with Meena and Johnny.” Ash groaned and slumped against the wall.
“Unofficial date?” Rosita asked, frowning in confusion. Ash glanced around to make sure that neither Meena nor Johnny were within earshot.
“Yeah. Those two idiots are so head over heels for each other that they’re too oblivious to even notice. SO whenever they wanna spend time together they drag me along as a buffer. I’m just gonna spend the whole night watching them make goo goo eyes at each other.” She gave another dramatic sigh and banged her head against the wall in frustration.
Rosita immediately went into “mom advice mode” and offered up her purse full of goodies to Ash who eagerly sorted through it until she found her favorite pack of gum. She pulled out two pieces, unwrapping one and popping it in her mouth while she put the other stick in her pocket for later.
“Well it sounds to me like you just need to tell them how you feel or else nothing is going to change.” Rosita patted her head and then began heading for the exit, an extra bounce in her step.
“Sure. Like it’s gonna be that easy.” Ash said sarcastically and then picked up her guitar case once more and headed out to the main stage where Johnny and Meena were talking quietly. She took a deep breath, pasted a smile on her face and strolled over to where her friends were waiting. She shoved her guitar case into Johnny’s arms and shoved her hands into her pockets.
Johnny accepted the guitar case without protest and slung it over his shoulder. it was custom for him to carry Ash’s guitar case and be the driver to the diner since he rarely had the money to pay for a full meal. Neither of the girls really minded considering his unique home situation.
“Let’s get a move on I’m fricking starving.” she said loudly as she led the way down the hall and towards the lobby. Johnny and Meena exchanged amused smiles as they followed her to the car. Ash was waiting by the truck when they caught up to her, looking around with a bored look on her face and a growing gum bubble coming from her mouth.
Johnny hurried to unlock the truck and held the door open for Ash as she slid into the middle seat. He held out a hand for Meena and helped her into the truck even though she obviously didn’t need his help. He closed the door once both of the girls were settled and then ran over to the driver’s side, first depositing Ash’s guitar case behind the front seat. He hopped in excitedly and started up the truck. The rolled down the windows and Johnny cranked up the radio. Soon they were all singing to an old Baboon 5 song: Harder to Breathe.
Ash’s smile grew a bit more genuine as she bobbed her head to the strong guitar parts of the song. Soon enough she joined her friends in belting out the chorus. They pulled up to a stoplight just before the diner, music still pumping and their voices drawing attention from other drivers and passersby. Ash took a moment to glance at Meena to see how she was handling all of the newfound attention but Meena wasn’t even looking at their spectators, her eyes were glued to Johnny as they harmonized through the chorus. Ash smiled and nodded to herself.
Yeah these two are made for each other. She thought, But that doesn’t make third-wheeling any less torturous.
Conveniently the song ended just as they pulled up to the diner and they all jumped out of the truck still beaming from their impromptu car performance. Johnny hurried ahead of the girls so that he could hold open the door like the gentleman that he was. Ash winked at him before strutting up to the hostess and asking for their usual table next to the window. 
The young antelope smiled and handed her three menus. Ash put them under her arm and led the way to their table. She sat on one side of the spacious booth while Meena and Johnny slid into the other. Ash had to physically stop herself from rolling her eyes at them and instead hid slightly behind her menu. After about a minute a curvy, older water buffalo wearing glasses and a stained apron bustled over to the table with her pad of paper.
“Well hey kiddos. What can I get for ya’ll this time?” she smiled warmly at them and held her pen over her pad, ready at any moment to scribble down their orders. Ash ordered the Wildberry Salad, her usual; Meena ordered an Eggplant Lasagna; and Johnny eagerly ordered the Roots and Shoots Casserole with a Peanut Butter and Chocolate milkshake. Ash playfully rolled her eyes at his obvious excitement over the shake while Meena let out a giggle and struck up a conversation about their latest show. It was still in the planning stages and therefore they were all still trying to pick out what song to sing for it. 
When Meena asked her what she would be singing Ash just smirked and said she would surprise them with a new song from the album she was currently working on. They grilled her for a few minutes trying to get more details but Ash stubbornly clammed up and refused to say anything else about it. Eventually Johnny turned the attention back to Meena’s choice and they began discussing possible song options. Ash tuned them out as she fiddled with her phone, vigorously playing level 300 of Candy Crush. When she was unsuccessful in beating the level for the 10th time she threw down her phone in frustration and tuned back into the conversation. 
“-’m not sure if tha’ song is good enuff fer yer voice Meena. Ya need a song jus’ as beautiful as ya-yer voice.” Ash watched the obvious verbal stumble with amusement. Both of her friends were blushing slightly, Johnny a little more so than Meena for a change.
“You really think so Johnny?” Meena asked shyly, looking up at him through her eyelashes. Suddenly their eyes were glued to each other’s and they slowly started leaning closer to each other.
“O’ course I do Meena.” Johnny said quietly, obviously mesmerized. The moment was immediately shattered by the arrival of their food. The waitress was skillfully balancing their plates on a tray on her shoulder and she speedily handed them out in a way that only an experienced waitress can.
“Thanks Sherry.” Ash nodded to their usual waitress and dug into her food, trying her best to ignore the longing looks that her friends were sending each other when the other wasn’t looking.
About twenty minutes later they were finished with their dinner and Sherry brought over the bill and Johnny’s towering milkshake. As always Sherry dropped off a couple of spoons with a smile before hurrying off to take care of the rest of her customers.
Johnny eagerly dug into his milkshake, looking at the sweet confection like a child looks at a new toy on Christmas. Meena was watching him devour the treat, a soft smile on her face, the same smile that she always got when she was mooning over Johnny. After a few minutes, Johnny noticed Meena watching him and turned bright red in embarrassment. He swallowed the large bite that was in his mouth and offered up a spoonful to Meena.
“Didja want sum Meena?” he asked bashfully and Meena nodded shyly. She opened her mouth to thank him and leaned in to get the spoon from him when the gorilla did something that neither girl was expecting. He leaned forward as well and skillfully fed Meena the bite. Meena and Ash stared at him in shock, Meena’s eyes as wide as they could go while Ash’s jaw was on the floor it had dropped so quickly. Meena recovered first and swallowed the bite, withdrawing the spoon from her mouth.
“Thanks.” she whispered.
“Yer welcome.” Johnny whispered back, both of them leaning in once more.
It was in that moment that Ash decided that she had had enough of this nonsense. Rosita’s advice had been bouncing around in her head since they sat down and she was bout to take it and deliver it to her friends in hr own special way. She banged her fist on the table to get their attention, her face screwed up in a mix of an annoyed look and a mischievous smirk. Both Meena and Johnny jumped at the sudden reminder of Ash’s presence. Before either of her friends could say anything Ash spoke up in a voice that was just loud enough for the people around them to hear.
“Hey Johnny wanna know what’s worse than being a third wheel?” she asked and Johnny froze under her scrutiny, doing a very good impression of a deer caught in the headlights.
“Uh…. no Ash, what’s worse?” he asked, confusion coloring his tone. He exchanged a concerned look with Meena who just shrugged slightly. Ash calmly stood up on the booth and leaned over the table so she was closer to them. Somehow in that moment, despite being about a third of their size, she was beyond intimidating.
“Being third wheel to TWO MORONS WHO WON’T ADMIT THEY’RE A COUPLE!” she suddenly roared. Both of her friends turned cherry red and the entire restaurant turned to watch the scene that was unfolding. Satisfied that she had made her point, Ash took out her wallet, threw down enough money for the bill and hopped down and out of the booth.
“So enjoy your first date. On me. And stop torturing me with this whole unofficial third wheel thing.” With that she turned around and walked out of the restaurant, high-fiving Sherry and the hostess as she left.
And just like that the animals of the diner went about their normal business and Meena and Johnny were left staring nervously at each other. They sat in silence for a little while before Johnny finally broke the silence.
“So…do ya want anovver bite?” he asked with that crooked smile that always made Meena’s heart pound in her chest. She just let out a little giggle and let him feed her another bite. 
One thought resounded through everyone’s heads, even Ash who had long since began her walk to the subway.
Finally.
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