The Stragner

a touch

A/N - PLZ GUYS STOP BULLEYING ME IM TRYING TO WRITE AS QUCK AS I CAN IM SORRY MY GRANDMA DIED DURING THE OLYMPIXCS SHE ATE THE GOLD METAL. U GUYS R JUST HATERSS IM GONAN SLOIT MU RISTS UGH. LET ME TAKE MOY TIME XD RAWR. like and subsricb. also i gave up on the fancy fwench 'e' pwease dont hat mw=e uwu

(not proof read fyii girlies)

***

The fact that Renesmee got caught meant nothing to her. If she needed whiskey, she needed whiskey. So tonight, she'd break in again. And again. When she got caught last night, she realised that the French dude stank like ass. A smoker. So she'd have to steal some cigs too. 

She broke in at the same time as usual, 2:03 AM. He was waiting there, with a stab wound on his topless torso. Renesmee couldn't help but trail her eyes over the expanse of his pale body. His shoulders were so small, petite - this made her hungry. Her fingers itched to grasp him, hand twitching with delight. Then all of a sudden - her eyes caught sight of a gentle patch of hair. His happy trail on full display, as his MineCraft shorts hung deliciously low on his hips. Renesmee stuck her hand out and VICIOUSLY grabbed a hair on his stomach, pulling him forward with the force of Zeus. She braided his happy trail, cutting off the gorgeous plait and keeping it for herself. Just before she stood up, she licked his wound clean like a mother wolf. AWOOO. And then she left him, whimpering and shaking.

All the while, she NEVER made eye contact.

***

Sophie entered the same cafe as usual, however, this time she noticed that the man behind the counter wasn't there. Today, he had been replaced by some sort of freaky fish demon. Sophie's eyes caught a hold of the name tag - Melly Sour. 

"Hi there, Melly... Sour? I'd like a cheese croissant." Sophie stated, eyeing the fish down.

" 'Kay." It replied.

Sophie had been thinking a crap ton about Albert. She genuinely wanted to devour him. However, she was stuck with Jean-Paul. Speaking of, he entered the cafe.

"Sooooofiiii-poooooo, I'm hereeeeeeeeee," he sing-songed, "Oh, you've already ordered? Jam-jam or cheesy-weesy?''

Sophie growled lowly.

"Oh. Cheese. I'm lactose intolerant, we can't share." Jean-Paul replied in understanding. Sophie didn't feel like sharing today, and Jean-Paul didn't feel like shitting today.

The bell on the cafe door rung again. In walked Renesmee. She made her way confidently and masculinely up to the counter, "I'll take an iced long black. Yeah, no sugar. Thanks." 

"Hello there," started Sophie, "Funny seeing you again." She crunched up her whole entire face.

"Yeah!" Jean-Paul piped in.

Renesmee's eyes lightened up in recognition, "Big Daddy Sartre! We should hang out some time, like, right now?"

"COOL! I'm all upsies for it." He giggled.

Melly Sour could've sworn it saw jealousy flash over Sophie's face.

Together, arm in arm, Jean-Paul and Renesmee left the cafe. They chatted, giving little bits of info about their lives. Renesmee revealed that she is a professor of economy, mathematics and philosphy (triple kill, I dare say). Jean-Paul revealed that he's a boywife. This intrigued Renesmee. Their bond grew as the night darkened, and in that moment both were sure that there would never be another that understood them more. Soulmates. 

"So tell me about this Nietzsche Theory you're big on, girl." Jean-Paul spoke, "I heard it's like, mega hard to understand and stuffzies."

"Um, yeah, kind of? I mean I was taught it a while ago when I was an economics student. My Professor was actually attentive and I guess that helped a lot."

"OOOOOhhhhhh. Professors are so mmmmmm. What were they like?" Jean-Paul's eyeballs turned into big juicy love hearts.

"Their name was Professor Lourlour, and we... Well... We had quite the relationship."

Renesmee recounted her past love with this sexy, hunky, intelligent professor. It was a passionate affair, filled with intellectual stuff and Monopoly Go. Together they expanded on the Kafkabussy theorem (much to the disdain of the real poor wittle Fwanz Kafka who was busy crying 25/8. Deadbeat), they cooked cannoli, watched Brooklyn 99, held pinkies and stole people's cats. Upon hearing this, Jean-Paul's heart warmed. He was glad Renesmee got to experience a love like that. 

That night, Renesmee had a long dream about Jean-Paul. She woke up in a sweat, cheeks warm from dreaming about licking his round spectacles.  She didn't manage to fall back asleep. Instead, she argued with herself, played air guitar, listened to the Frozen 2 soundtrack and stared intently at the little braid she had cut off. It was a long night.

[TO BE CONTINUED...]