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no cw for this chapter :)
things start to pick up from here real quick lmao, comment suggestions as always!
WORD COUNT: 4.7k
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YOUR THUMBS HOVERED OVER the message bar. This wasn't cheating. You knew it wasn't. But still, something felt wrong. Maybe it was the fact that you found him incredibly attractive. Maybe it was the fact that texting him meant acknowledging this unfounded attraction to him. Whatever it was, you found yourself rather hesitant to text your boyfriend's dealer.
Hey, it's takeomi's gf.
You quickly hit the backspace button, deleting the message you had just typed to him. With a frustrated sigh, you tried again.
Hey, it's me!
No, too informal. You seriously doubted a man who dealt marijuana would be able to recognize someone based on such a loose claim as "It's me".
Hi! It's Takeomi's gf 🙂
You deleted it again. That didn't sound right. You told yourself it was because of the emoji and not because of the weird way your gut twisted at the thought of him seeing you as nothing more than his cohort's girlfriend.
Hey! It's [Y/N] .
This one sounded a little better.
Okay, you decided. You would hit send. You would hit send and then throw your phone across the room and never check it again.
Your eyes widened. Why were you tripping so hard over a text message when you were in a relationship?
With a sigh, you hit send. Of course, you turned off your phone anyway.
Now what? You thought. When your question was greeted by the distinct growl of an empty stomach, you decided that you had been in bed long enough. Taking a few seconds to gather your strength, you released the covers from your grip and slid out of bed. Almost immediately after you took your first step, a jolt of pain shot up your back. 26 and already feeling the age.
It felt as if someone had snuck into your room in the middle of the night and beat down your tailbone with a mallet. Despite this devastating inconvenience that had put a significant damper on your morning – or afternoon, whenever it was – you found yourself making your way into the kitchen of your boyfriend's apartment.
The kitchen was quiet. At first glance, in fact, one might have thought the apartment was empty, had it not been for the rather angry-looking man sitting at the table while flipping through the newspaper. He looked pissed. Your heart plummeted.
