Just Married

08: Just Understanding

a clarification and announcement from this dorky, four-eyed writer: I'm super sorry guys, I should have clarified that Peyton is Lana's older sister in the last chapter. I really hoped the other comments on my story and my own comment clued you guys in!

As for the winner of the dedication for last chapter's questions: it goes out to XxBreannxX for suggesting the YouTuber Hartbeat. Because I have never heard of her before and omg, I swear I laughed so hard at all her other videos.

For everyone else who commented on my story, mentioning YouTubers, I want to let you guys know I literally spent two hours before writing this chapter to watch every single video you guys suggested. Seriously so amazing guys. I love you all. Happy reading!! xx Ü

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Should or I? Or should I not? I groaned in frustration as I lied on the couch by myself, flipping the blanket that was over me on and off. I was debating whether or not I should just leave, because you know, stuff, or should I wait it out until the morning. Maybe they were having a heart to heart. Late night talks were always good talks.

Ugh, I didn’t even know why I was so worked up. Just because he was technically mine (notice how possessive I sound), he wasn’t mine. My heart did a depressing flip. So I just decided to do the natural thing.

I was going to spy on them.

Hastily flipping the covers off of me, I scrambled up and began creeping towards the kitchen, which was directly next to her bedroom. They’ve been in there for at least twenty minutes, and I didn’t hear much. I decided to stay near the kitchen area and lean over the counter, straining to hear anything. How awkward would it be if I pressed my ear up against the door and someone decided to open it? Very.

I heard muffled talking, and maybe some shifting and shuffling. What the hell could they be doing in there? Now it wasn’t just me who was shamefully jealous, but who has sex at this time of night? I would think that people would be passed out, much less have the energy to perform correctly.

That was the least of my worries though. There was the sound of broken glass all of a sudden, just BAM, a shattering sound boomeranged across apartment and freaked me out so bad, I let out a yelp and jumped back. That wasn’t the last of it though.

“Fuck!” I heard Peyton scream. Okay, was that meant in a: Oh my gosh, I lost my wallet. Fuck! Or did she mean that in the: FUCK, like the verb? Life’s questions.

There was a distinct sound of the bed frame crashing on and off the wall, and I completely began to blush myself. Damn, they went hard. Okay, well, if I thought on the bright side, maybe they are just jumping on the bed for fun. Totally understandable. It was scarily quiet for a minute, but then another crashing sound came, like somebody threw a lamp against the wall.

“You ass!” a more masculine voice accused loudly, so I assumed it was Theo. Then, I kid you not, there was a resounding slap that followed. Oh sweet baby Jesus. Please do not tell me they are into that kind of foreplay, because I could not think of anything worse than having Fifty Shades of Grey come to life.

By now, I was thoroughly disgusted, aroused, confused, angered, and most definitely embarrassed by the whole situation. They were making awkward noises and saying suggestive things. The itch to know if they were making a sex tape was getting stronger and stronger. Not that I wanted to see either of them naked, but the growing curiosity was just killing it.

My eyes scanned the kitchen and landed on the kitchen knife set. This set off fireworks in my mind as I came up with a plan. Right. I’ll just swing the door open with a knife in my hand and pretend like I thought there was an intruder or something. I am a genius.