𝐔𝐍𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 [18+]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐗𝐗𝐗𝐕𝐈𝐈

I leave my bedroom, walking on the hallways, wanting to grab some breakfast. I have been starting to make this really yummy toasts, with some good fucking jam I bought in the supermarket, unlike Aaron who just puts butter and calls it a masterpiece. I mean it probably is my fault since I bought him a toaster, and the last few weeks there hasn't been a day when he hasn't used it.

"I was looking for you. Why did you leave bed?" I stare ahead, looking at a ver sleepy Aaron who rubs his tired eyes as he stares at me. His toned chest is bare, the dark hair on his navel following down to grey sweatpants who hide what's underneath.

"I got my period," I answer, shrugging it off.

"Oh," he says, walking so he's standing in front of me and wrapping his arms around my waist, his head resting on shoulder. "Are you ok?"

"Yeah, I usually get cramps when I want to sleep, it's horrible, but I'm good in the morning."

I feel his lips move from my shoulder to my neck, leaving wet kisses. "Ok, let's go make toasts," he says excitedly.

I watch him walk down the stairs, still a bit tired from sleep. This past few days I've been a bit distant with Aaron. Not because I want to, but because I need time to think. This isn't just sex for me, but I don't know what he thinks. He isn't the type for relationships, I know that, but fuck, so say every romance book guy and they always get the happy ending.

I still don't know if I want the happy ending though. The fairy tales, the marriage, the vanilla soft sex. But should I want that? Am I too blinded by lust that I can't see what I should want? I should want marriage and kids and cute dates on the beach.

I shake my head, walking down the stairs and to the kitchen. Aaron flashes me a smile once he sees me, "I made you toasts."

———

I watch as Ember stares as her phone clutched in her hand. Her hair looks like a rat's nest, to messy from pulling at it because of stress. "I don't if I should," she whines, throwing the phone on the bed.

"Ember Roberts. Grab the fucking phone and text him," I grit through my teeth. She looks at me with puppy eyes. "You're not getting away with it, you're the one that called me saying you wanted to do this," I remind her.

"I know," she whines, "but I'm having second thoughts. You can't trust what I say when I'm under the influence of weed, Mads, we know this."

"Come on, it's not that bad. If he freaks out, it's not the end of the world, you still got the contact of 'salt and pepper', right?" I say, trying to encourage her. She grabs her phone and stares at it intently, as if contemplating her whole life.

"Yes, maybe you're right. Ok I'll do it. Wish me luck," she says, looking at me with pleading eyes.

"Good luck, now write him, tiger, you got this. You're a bad bitch, every man and woman would die to be with you."

"Ok." She sighs, "Hi, Charlie. Can you talk? I've got to tell you something," she says slowly as she types.

"Why the fuck you talking out loud, you sound like my Mom." I'm glad when I get a small smile back, and her eyes grow flying as she stares at the phone.

"He's writing. Fuck he's writing," she screams, throwing the phone on the bed. I grab her shoulders, hugging her in a way, as we wait for a reply to bounce back. The all too known sound comes as the text arrives, and we stand slightly taking a peak at the phone.