I wrote this 'moment' and could not think of anything more to go with it. So, I guess it's a snippet of their lives at this point.
I am aware that it is short - I hope that its brevity is not a source of irritation. A spectacularly unscientific poll on Facebook said that people would not mind it as is.
So, here's what Planella and Pineapple/Planward are up to today:
In the great, green room
there is a telephone and red platforms
and a picture of…
Um, check that shit.
His effing stepmother. Right there. On the dresser.
The dresser in which I still do not have a drawer.
Next to the bathroom in which I have only a travel toothbrush.
I've never met her, but she is ever-present in our relationship.
Silently critiquing with her flat eyes.
Did you like the mount-up I did on your boy last night?
Yes, yes. I've been stretching. Trying to keep limber.
Today is our anniversary. Of what I'm not sure.
At least, Edward says it is.
I recall no extraordinarily special event happening on the 30th of any of the months we've been together.
First time we went on an actual date: January 7th.
Mutually agreed we are a couple: January 9th
First sleepover – his place: January 12th
First sleepover – my place: January 13th
Said "I Love You" genuinely and without reservation or reference to 'probably' or other qualifier? February 4th
Observed the age-old ritual of rubbing our happiness in the face of those less fortunate? February 14th
But, 'anniversary' with Edward always translates to some variant of 'wall sex' so…well…who am I to quibble with trivial matters such as accuracy and facts?
We have been enjoying a little celebratory SOS – Shoes On Sex.
They say practice makes perfect, but that doesn't seem to apply. If so, I'd have a doctorate. An FMP PhD.
It isn't Valentine's Day, but that doesn't stop my heels from piercing Edward's heart.
If by 'heart,' one means 'dick.'
"Are you prepping me for some sort of genital piercing? At least let's discuss that sort of thing first."
"Do you mean an apadravya?" I try not to snort at the idea of Edward with such an ornamentation.
"Apadravya? Any intent to plunge a steel rod through…there…best begin with 'Abracadabra.'" He exhales sharply, cupping himself like a baby bird fallen from the nest, and shudders. "Better yet, just go straight for 'Avada Kedvara."
This isn't anything I really want, but I can't help myself when he's like this.
"I hear it's very pleasurable," I say as innocently as possible, running two fingers over the sheet in slow, swirly patterns. His eyes follow their trek.
"It's done in one quick session when they pierce the mea-"
"Bella, I swear to God, if you finish that sentence, we are never having intercourse again."
Oh, dear. Quick onset laryngitis.