Holiday One-Shots

December 25th

Christmas One-Shot:

Candy Letters ❤🌈

"Come on, Dahmorra," I whine. "What the hell is Evan up to?" It's the hundredth time I've asked her this question. Her replies vary, yet are still all the same. If anyone would know what he was doing it would be her, if not me. And it's definitely not me who knows this time.

"How would I know, Peter? Y'all left me in a completely different state," she practically exclaims. It wasn't even shade, she was firing shots. After a short pause she continues to speak. "That's probably the most unholy thing about this trinity."

Now that was definitely shade. I decide to simply sip on that tea and not retort. I know it's still bothering her, but it was best for our differing careers. It's weird enough that two of us were interested in the same university. The government would want to do some type of alien research on us if we all, separately, decided to go to the same school for differing arts. People already think we're the same person, it wasn't on last year's to-do list to prove them right. Anyways, it's not like we completely left her behind. We still love her and will continue to do so.

"Dahmi, it's only twenty-two months. When we get back from university you'll still be in school. Plus, one day we'll need a lawyer to help us write up our Fifty Shades contract."

"Are you trying to piss me off?" The answer to that is an obvious yes, but she continues before I can interject. "Stop hoeing around, you'll be needing a lawyer to defend you for kidnapping and abuse rather than advise you with an illegal sex contract." The sass in her voice is plain. It was a joke, on both our parts, yet it upset us in different ways.

"Than advise me Mistress Laywer," I say smirking. She hums in to the receiver, obviously distracted. "Just fuck them, dude; and leave the real BDSM for me and Evan," is her honest reply. My smirk grows wider. "You'd love that wouldn't you?"

"Yes, Daddy." She replies in a clearly forged high pitched and seductive voice. We laugh simultaneously, but it soon dies down. "I almost pukes just saying that," she huffs in breathless laughter.

"You know you like it." I reply playfully. "Well, his car's here, and you're a very busy get-out-of-jail-free card, so I'll let you go."

"Alright..." the words linger, "but, I'll just let you know, there's a such thing as an uber."

The call ends and I climb out of my car. I continue to take in her words as I head to the door. "There is a such thing as an uber,". And she's right- but Evan would be the last person to use one. He enjoys sprawling out across the seats and screaming out the lyrics of every song on the radio way too much.

I open the door to an empty apartment. I half expected Evan to light up the entire house and decorate everything with gift wrap. That's the type of person Evan is; extra. I pull the slipping strap of my laptop case back onto my shoulder. Darkness envelopes me as I close the door. My memory guides me to the bar where I place my laptop. Despite the dark I am able to make my way through the hall with no casualties. My feet kick at cloths that Evan and I had stripped each other of during a quickie two nights ago. It's rare for us to hook up, but not unheard of. It's a perk of having the relationship that we have.

Evan is a very handsome piece of eye candy. He has dark brown hair and skin with a natural deep tan. His dark brown eyes constantly shine with a devious glint. And let's just say his body was sculpted by the gods. I'm not too far off though. Every inch of my body is a piece of chiseled milk chocolate. My eyes are merely a few shades brighter than his. My hair is a different story. It has been dyed every single color of the gaybow and I hold no regrets. Yet, I always stick to my roots. Literally. My roots are always it's natural brown color.