Things aren't as nice as they were a few months ago. As cuffing season looms, Greta wraps herself around a cascade of bad decisions as she tries to take back what she had lost. But whether that'd be an assured future with Julien or a chaotic love wi...
♫ post to be by omarion, chris brown, and jhene aiko ♫
She took a breath to ease her mind of the contemplation. Seeing the matte red Subaru Impreza parked in the driveway was one thing she expected. It was Marcus's car, one Cora had gotten used to recognizing so much that it tainted every time she'd spot a Subaru model driving past her.
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Sadly, she was in Seattle. And there were just as many Subaru's here than days that rained.
But she knew that she needed to suck it up somehow. She was at the house already, and behind that veil would be the man that rocked her world for two glorious nights. She just didn't know what else would be back there - or rather, who else.
Regardless, she made light, careful knocks on the door. And when nothing happened at first, Cora knocked harder until it flung open to reveal the man standing there before her.
And God was he just as beautiful as she remembered.
But enough with being mesmerized. She was still here on a mission. And straightening herself out before him, Cora asked, "So whose back there with you?"
He quirked a brow, though. Then, his lips curved a wicked grin along the side before he leaned against the doorframe. Then, Cora felt helpless to the way his dark eyes looked her up and down, tracing every inch of her body like she were some kind of exquisite art piece.
"Nah, it's just me, Elsa..."
Marcus got to Cora then, both with the relieving words and to the nickname he'd been so keen on using to reference the jokes he'd likely make regarding her to some kind of Disney Princess.
"Just you?" She asked. But he said nothing, only backed away. And leaving the door open, Cora welcomed herself in.
There was the scent of chocolate chips in the air, and Lauv's I Like Me Better serenaded her entrance from the speakers. Following him into the kitchen, Cora sat upon the edge of the counter, watching as he opened the oven. And from it, a thin pan of a dozen or so cookies was removed.
Suffice it to say, it was a glorious sight to her eyes.
"You baked those? For who?"
"Myself," He said. "Was about to smoke me somethin' real quick."
"Whataya got?"
He handed her the small bag of weed, and from its dusty-looking texture, Cora grinned before he explained. "Some indica shit I picked up from some white girl the other day."
"It's Grand Daddy purple," She corrected. "I used to smoke this when I was in college."
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