Catacomb Heart

It ain't easy being Wheezy

This morning, one person dominated my mind. As I woke up in a large bedroom, in a bed made from what felt like clouds, pillows supporting my head which had the softest of feathers inside and a set of sheets with a ridiculous thread count. The faint smell of musk and vanilla as well as man hung in the air and on the bedding. Whilst the curtains were still drawn and a
Collie laid across my feet. I could still only think of one person...

My gran.

The twitching began in my nose, before it moved up to my eyes where tears brewed and then travelled down to where my lips trembled. Sighing softly I looked at the empty side of the bed and wondered how long and when Zak had decided to get up.

My gran was a go getter in life, even at 91 she always had the gossip on who said what and always offered some cracking advice. But she never prepared me for the lesson in life I was now looking at.

- having someone love me and I myself, not being able to reciprocate it back.

If you asked me how to deal with nuisance callers than hell, I'd tell you exactly what she told me to say.

She'd say "Haven, you tell them to shove those free windows and conservatories so far up their ass they can build a penthouse."

Even now I had a faint giggle in my system at her wicked ways. It was only sparked up by her one regret in life and that was not telling enough people to fuck off..

My gran.. My heroine.

She passed not long after I moved to America, when I received the news I sobbed like a baby whilst Joe rubbed my back and arranged everything. From getting me time off work to booking flights and even packing for me. He even came with me for support.

Joe was fond of my gran, mainly because she would comment on his ever so handsome face every time we Skype called and insist if she was 60 years younger she would snap him up quicker than a tiger on a gazelle.

She had a thing for wildlife programmes too.. David Attenborough was her celeb crush. Something I found incredibly cute even after my grandad had passed. He would roll his eyes and tut every time she found Planet Earth on TV.

It was her advice of telling me to grab life by the short and curlys that brought me to America. Telling me that I was destined to be graced in the Vegas lights, and when she meant lights she meant casino lights. Not police lights for when I got drunk and danced on tables.

I had a wild 18th in England..

I looked down to the bottom of the bed to see a familiar pair of chocolate eyes watching me as I shed a tear.

"Oh Gray." I whispered patting the space beside me. I watched as she gave the door a glance to make sure Zak wasn't coming in before rushing up beside me and lapping the tear off my cheek. "Clever girl.."

After cuddling and dampening her fur with my unruly tears, I rolled out of bed in order to find Zak and to get changed.

Padding down the corridor quietly, I looked around tempting to call out when I heard the pots in the kitchen. Giving my face one sure wipe, I fixed a smile and headed to it.

Opening up the door, I found Zak stood in a pair of basketball shorts, his back facing me as he wiggled his butt to the beat of the radio.

Folding my arms, I leant my head against the door watching him carefully.

"My neck, my back, lick my pussy and my cra-"

I choked on the air and ended up coughing so hard that Zak spun in shock to find me almost doubled over in laughter and pain at his booty shake. Having seen him lift his leg to do it.