Please, No More Bullsh*t Happy Endings[[Short Story]]

Please, No More Bullsh*t Happy Endings [[CH 2]]

[A/N: I'm really excited to have gotten some positive feedback on the last one, sooooooooo, I'm hoping that with a few more chapters posted on here, I might be able to attract some more attention to my poor little story... It's getting quite lonely you know! D:  

lol, So anyways, please vote, comment, and/or fan<3 Thanks for all the support :D -R.Vice]

Please, No More Bullsh*t Happy Endings

CHAPTER TWO

I had finally gotten home. A sigh of relief slipped from my lips as I rummaged around in my messenger bag for the keys to my apartment. My bag really was a mess inside, a veritable hodgepodge of odds and ends of my life.... Actually, my bag very much represented my life, I thought absently as my fingers dug for the cold metal of my keys. There were bits of sketches, some new, some half done, and some forgotten from my interest in art. There was a small collection of coins and other minor currency, from the grocery shopping that usually fell on me to do. There were a few books which I dared not think about right now, for obvious reasons. There was a shirt of ugly design in a nice navy blue that was required of me to wear as part of a work uniform. There was my camera, from some of my free-lance photography work. And last but not least, my cell phone, the all-important life-line no one could seem to live without anymore.

My life was a mess, really. I smiled absently at the wayward thought as I pushed around the mess in my bag as I continued my search in the hallway of the apartment building. A mess it may be... but it was MY mess. A life of my own was something I had grown up wishing for...

My keys had somehow managed to insinuate themselves into the lining of my bag. It seemed I would forever be in a constant game of hide-and-seek with every item in it. Always when I needed something, that item would hide and it would take me forever to find it. I pulled the keys from my bag and finally let myself into the apartment I shared with my roommate, and close friend Henry.

"Henry?" I called out, lazily dropping my bag next the front door, instead of hanging it up. I was sure he would have something to say about that later; I chuckled quietly to myself. "Hey Lover? You home?"

"Well hello my beautiful wife." Henry's deep baritone laugh greeted my ears, just seconds before he peeked out the kitchen doorway and greeted me with a happy smile.

It was an ongoing joke between Henry and I. He was as gay as the day was long and we weren't lovers, yet still everywhere we went, our easy companionship and natural affection seemed to signal to those looking in that we were a young, in-love couple. We didn't see any point in denying them their petty delusions if that was easier for them to wrap their close mindedness around. It seemed people did not take well to homosexuals. Their loss, I guess. Some of the kindest, most warm hearted and genuine people I had ever met in my life were more gay than a fruit-loop at a cheerio party.

And after the life I had led, it was wonderful to know some people so kind.

I smiled happily at him for a moment. Simply seeing his smiling face made me feel so much better after a crappy day. I wandered nearer and sniffed the air. "Mmm," I hummed in appreciation. "Something smells amazing. What are you making, Hun?"

Henry got an excited glint to his eyes as he motioned for me to follow him into our small apartment kitchen. "Something new."

I laughed as I followed him into the kitchen and continued to sniff the air. It really did smell mouth-watering. Before I could even register what he was doing, Henry held a large, wooden mixing-spoon up to my lips, its contents questionable, but steaming and smelling delicious. I raised an eyebrow at him in question. He gave me the 'you-better-taste-it-now-or-it's-going-down-your-shirt' look. He WOULD dump it down my shirt; I knew it and worse, he knew I knew it...