𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝟹𝟷𝚜𝚝, 𝟸𝟶𝟷𝟽 - 𝟷𝟷:𝟻𝟺𝚙𝚖
"Ugh!" I grumbled, tearing up another sheet of paper. I hated writing songs. It wasn't my area of expertise. I'd rather write riffs, but Axl all but suggested I try to write a song. I sighed, eying the analog clock on the wall. It was getting late and I'd been at it all day. Why do I, a 25-year-old man, have to listen to Axl?! Here I am, working my ass into the ground and he was probably in some bar hooking up with girls and letting them take him to their house.
No wonder Erin left his ass...Stevie should too.
I sighed, dropping the pen and running my hands frustratingly down my face. I was tired and my back hurt from sitting in this one position for hours on end. "Hey," I heard, softly. I looked up to see my husband, Duff, standing in the doorway of our office with his arms crossed. He had that same soft smile, that I fell in love with, on his face and he looked just as tired. "Come to bed. It's getting late." He said.
"I know, it's just Axl asked me to write, but—" "Fuck Axl, Slash, he's probably drowning in pussy and booze right about now. You need to sleep. I don't like when you stay up like this." He said quietly, as not to wake up our 4-year-old, Grace, who was asleep just down the hall. I sighed, looking over the papers strewn all across my desk. I turned off my desktop computer and looked back up at Duff.
"Come to bed." He said, before walking back to our bedroom. I straightened up the desk and rubbed my eyes, realizing just how tired I was as soon as I stood. I turned out the lights and closed the door. I quietly went down the hall to check on Grace, only to find her sound asleep, hugging the teddy bear Duff's mom had given her a few days before she passed. The nightlight had shown colorful stars all over the room, but was dim enough to not wake her.
I gave a lazy, content smile as I softly closed the door, and went to my room. Duff was already under the blankets with his face in the pillows. I chuckled, and he lifted his head as I began changing into some clothes to sleep in. Duff and I had vowed to stop sleeping naked after we woke up one morning and 2-year-old Grace had somehow manage to get out of her crib and into our bed.
"What?" Duff asked. "Nothing." I said, changing into one of his shirts and wearing only boxers as I crawled into the bed, beside him. He pulled me into his chest and I chuckled as he reached over me to turn out the lights before kissing my forehead and taking my hair out of its rubber band prison. "Hey!" I quietly giggled. "I love seeing your face but I don't like when you hide your hair." He simply said, raking his hand through my curls. "Mmm," I hummed, leaning into his touch.
"I love you." He said softly, gently placing a kiss on my lips. I softly kissed him before pulling back. "I love you more." I closed my eyes. "I love this ass too." He chuckled, furthering his point by taking a handful of my ass and squeezing it. "You disgusting pervert." I quietly giggled. "Oh, but you love this pervert." He said as I laid my head on his chest. "More than anything." I murmured before I drifted off into that sweet, sweet, world of haze that I called slumber.
Little did I know, hell would rise on earth in the time I was sleeping. And I wouldn't even stir.
𝚘𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟷𝚜𝚝, 𝟸𝟶𝟷𝟽 - 𝟽:𝟺𝟻𝚊𝚖
