ᴍʏ ᴋɪɴᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴘᴇʀꜰᴇᴄᴛ ✩ ᴛᴢ11

THIRTY THREE

penelope

i was on the verge of a breakdown as i drove home from work. for once, i could tell you why. i met with a family who had a six year old with a glioblastoma today, peter giving the prognosis as "i think you should consider end of life care." i couldn't get one thing down today. everything i drank or are coming back up after a mere twenty minutes. my back was killing me. my attempt to wear heels failing as i would be lucky to still have my pinky toes once i took them off. my boobs hurt so bad, and to top it all off, i had to stop on the side of the road to throw up on the way home and got vomit on my blouse.

i step into the solace of the apartment, sighing and blinking back tears as i set my things down. i tug, yes tug my heels off my swollen feet and wince when they brush my angry pinky toe. i'm taking my blouse off and throwing it in the washer when i realize the house is too quiet.

"trevor?" i call.

"bathroom!" he yells back.

good. i could use a back rub or three from him tonight. i'm changing straight into pajamas in my room, brushing my teeth to rid my mouth of the aftertaste of puke. i gag, my eyes watering when the toothpaste hits my tongue. don't cry.

i somehow successfully brush my teeth without causing my head to end up in the toilet. when i turn around, shutting the light off to the en-suite bathroom, there stands clam chowder in the door way. i scoff and roll my eyes walking past her as her bright blue eyes look up at me.

trevor's in the living room now. i can hear him shuffling around as i make myself know. i smirk when i see him dressed in that white button up with black trimming that i love so much. it makes him look tan and shows off just enough of his chest to look sexy, but still classy.

his hair is fluffed to perfection looking so silky smooth. i just want to run my fingers through it. the silver watch on his wrist brings out the bulging veins in his arm and accentuates his tattoos so well. he looks damn good.

too damn good to be staying in.

"what's got you looking all dilf like for?" i wiggle my eyebrows.

trevor looks up from his phone and let's out a breathy chuckle. he's running his hand through his hair for the third time in the past minute. his teeth chews the inside of his cheek. i've picked up on trevor's nervous tics. why is he nervous?

oh god.

my heart pounds as i look down at my attire and remember what i'm wearing. pajamas. he's dressed up, he's nervous. i really hope he's not about to ask me to be girlfriend while i'm wearing this. now i'm nervous.

"i'm uh-"

ah fuck, here it comes.

"going on a date."

i feel my blood run cold as soon as the words leave his mouth. my face turns white as a sheet. that nausea i pushed back is making its ugly head present again. i feel my hands start shaking in anger and adrenaline. i'm in shock but the tears will arrive soon.

"w-what?" i choke out.

i wait for his shit eating grin to make its way on his face but it never comes. he's being serious. he nods softly like he's ashamed of himself.

"okay," i whisper, turning back around to go to my bedroom to decide if i should wallow and weep or just die.

"penelope-"

"no! no, it's fine trevor. i'm the one who told you, you should be out living your life. i can't be mad when you do." i wipe my tears when he grabs my wrist.