#peysidiots

“If I had known that you getting laid would have gotten the stick out of your ass, I would have fucked you a long time ago.” Easy. That’s how Cora would describe it. It was easier working with Chandler. Even a small ‘thank you’ slipped out of her mouth when he handed her the third coffee refill for the morning, with her very obviously trying to ignore the small jitters she got when her hand brushed his.

Erik was never one to care about social trends. He just didn't understand why everyone seemed to come together on something to mediocre. However, walking down the street or going to the sore and seeing pictures of your ex-girlfriend wasn’t him being ‘trendy,’ but rather curious. Looking at her picture still made his blood boil, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t care about her. However, he figured that he would never ever see her again. Yet when he saw the headline say, ‘Twenty-eight days lead guitarist, Mikey Ridley, pregnant!’ his eyes quickly rushed to the other bubbles of news. ‘Her time in rehab’ his eyes quickly moved to the other, ‘slowing down music release?’ and the grand one, ‘Who’s the father?’ Despite not speaking to her since the wedding, he bought the magazine and went to the place he knew he would find her; her house. She’d never leave because of publicity or some shit like that. He made his way over there only to see paparazzi outside her house. Luckily, he knew the back way into her house and sneaked in. He was at the back door, knocking loudly at the door, slowly feeling like he was losing his mind. He almost wished that this was all just a rumor..

BECCA: I think you have the wrong inbox, Quinny.

‘‘So... I have something to ask you, more like a favor, but you have to promise me that you won't make a big deal out of it or else I'll never talk to you again. Deal?’‘   @peysidiots

“Do not give me that look right now. Liam has been up all night and I can’t find his lion and I’m tired and fuck do you think I left it at my parent’s house? I couldn’t have. Where are my keys?”

To put to words how much Cora missed her bed would be like a Victorian romance novel with all the metaphors and flowery language. She’s spent the past three weeks in a hotel room that, as comfortable and nice as it was, was not her bed or her room. And as much as she missed the skyscrapers of San Francisco, the ones in New York felt extremely claustrophobic and Cora found herself yearning for the buildings of DC that never exceeded twelve stories. There was only one downside of being back in the nation’s capital and that was that there was no more avoiding Chandler when she will walk back into headquarters tomorrow. All the debriefing of her assignment happened in New York and at the end of it, Cora was just given a plane ticket home and was told to report back on Monday. There really weren’t any days off as a federal agent, but it really gave her time to appreciate the quiet. She threw the last of her own clothes into the hamper to deal with at another time and was ready to collapse onto her bed when she heard knocks at her door. She had half a mind to ignore it, but then she heard them again and knew that the person there was not going to leave. 

Harley sat on his bed, still looking at the text she sent him. It didn’t feel right just to have done that and despite making her way home on her own, she walked all the way to his apartment and let herself in. Much to her surprise, Bailey wasn’t there and she kept contemplating leaving, only to sit there with the bottle she finished at her feet.

“Requests for dinner?” Matt said, getting up from the couch. It was one of the few nights of the week where he didn’t have a shift at 5PM and was very glad to not, as he literally just spent the last hour with Natalie’s head on his lap and his fingers tangled up in her hair as they just watched whatever show she put on. “Going once... going twice...”