skinny love | shyland

seven

"six dollars for a drink." i muttered in a mixture of amusement and disbelief once i'd driven off, shaking my head and turning up the radio. i glanced down at the disgustingly coloured drink with a small smirk. "what a fucking princess."

it wasn't long before i'd parked the car in the underground area and walked into the building, smiling at a few colleagues before pushing the door open to the office. arriving at work had become second nature to me now, the reception ladies often recognising me and saying hi as i passed, the mailman often asking me to sign for different parcels each morning.

"oh, you got my text in time!" a voice exclaimed excitedly as soon as i set foot inside, shane jumping out of his chair and grabbing the drink off me like a small child before smiling sheepishly. his erratic nature for nine in the morning was slightly unnatural and i laughed as he continued to spew words.  "how's your morning been?"

it wasn't really the time to mention that i'd skipped eating breakfast with conor and madison like i usually did because of the argument we'd had at 6am over him coming home late last night, or that i'd shoved a cereal bar in madi's hand and promised to take her for milkshakes tomorrow after school when she was feeling better.

so instead, i faked a groan and dramatically fell back into my office chair. "good thanks, apart from having to order you the most complicated order ever. i'm pretty sure the barista wanted to impale me with a coffee stirrer when i drove up to the window."

"hey! this shit's really good! don't try come at me for being healthy, you of all people with your little packed lunch salad with tomatoes and lettuce." shane snorted, rolling his eyes as i chucked the paper straw at him and catching it between two
seconds. "who eats tomatoes by choice?" he gagged once he had finished speaking and i scoffed, masking my smile as i switched on my laptop.

he was dressed smartly today, wearing a solid black tuxedo jacket and matching dress pants, along with a crisply ironed white shirt underneath. in the moment i wondered whether he hired somebody to do his laundry, because i couldn't quite imagine him stood at an ironing board in front of the television with a wrinkled pile of clothing at his side. a red tie was tight at his throat and the stubble of his beard was a little tidier than normal, and when he caught my eye i pretended to have been staring into space rather than picturing a domesticated version of the man in front of me.

"so what's on the agenda for today?" i asked as i downed a few gulps of my coffee before focussing on the screen in front of me. i had about twelve unread emails and the cogs in my brain were still struggling to whir from the lack of caffeine reaching my receptors.

"not much, i've got to head out into the centre of the city after lunch, louis tomlinson is recording a new song, i need to oversee it. you can stay at the office or come with, it's up to you."

"i'll come." i agreed with a smile, and he threw the paper wrapper from his straw in my direction, hitting me directly in the forehead before grinning and picking up the ringing phone.

*

at around three pm, a lot later than initially intended, we left the office with sandwiches in our hands and climbed into the back of a limousine. rich brown leather seats cushioned my fall as i sunk into the seat beside shane, leaning back on the headrest and letting out a mixed sigh of content and frustration. throughout the day i'd been checking my phone, hoping to receive some kind of update from conor as to how madison was feeling, but i'd heard nothing and the only notification i had was that my electricity bill was due in a week. anxiety was eating away at my breakfast and making me queasy because surely the argument we'd had wasn't bad enough for him to not even let me know how our own daughter was feeling?