BAYOU

girlfriend

"You're so beautiful when you smile. You look inviting and bubbly."

Like a champagne. Social, fun, with no bite. That's how Lucas liked her. He only liked biting when he specifically asked for it.

"On your knees,"

And she didn't hesitate, he taught her how to be a lady first. Listen, obey, mouth open, mouth closed, no teeth. Good girl. Smile.

He'd reward her with gifts; money, lipstick, lingerie, eau de parfum, far too many clothes. Threw all of the things that were patched up by her grandmother away because they were "shabby." Her new dresses fit her better but nothing stopped them from feeling like a costume, especially the shoes. Heels that went up, up, up and never came back down.

She could walk in stilettos like a pro, thanks to him. Knew that fine wine lingered on the tongue, thanks to him. Could hold her breath for an obscene amount of time, thanks to him.

Her sisters thought they were doing her a solid, giving her to this man. He lived in a mansion, after all, paid for her condo, turned her into a woman right before their very eyes. But she didn't belong to herself.

"Isn't life so sweet?" They'd muse, bags in hand from another all-expense-paid shopping trip.

Sugarplum wouldn't say a word.

Life was sweet, she supposed, but she could still remember the taste of her granny's peach cobbler.

Nothing was sweeter than that.

.

Angel had asked about a hundred times if she was sure she'd be okay alone while he ran out to get the mix for his blueberry waffles (plus some clothes for him to wear and a new toothbrush for her to use.) Sugarplum had said yes repeatedly, and vehemently, up until he was about to leave.

"Wait,"

So she stayed in the car while he shopped, a list of things she specified for him to get in his grasp with a big "X" over mix because, she explained, waffles from scratch were exponentially better than anything that came in a box.

"Aye, aye, captain." Angel stood at attention before heading into the store as if he were on a special case operation. He didn't even get into the building before she saw pedestrians flashing crazy looks at him in her bathrobe. If he noticed, he didn't seem to mind.

He FaceTimed her all the while, clearly trying to keep her spirits up, make her feel safe. She rolled her eyes at his jokes, shaking her head at the memory of him picking her up like a child. Acting as though the gesture didn't make her feel warm inside.

When he came back with grocery bags in hand, he loaded them up in the trunk and plopped down in the driver's seat, adjusting himself in her robe.

"What the hell?"

"Don't mind me. The soft plushy fur against my you-know-what got me feeling a lil ticklish."

"I'm in hell."

Angel felt almost like a boyfriend to her, ordering her to drape the grocery bags against his long arms. Despite being an otherwise deplorable person, a woman carrying grocery bags up two flights of stairs was where he crossed the line, he wouldn't allow her to hold one. Said he was a gentleman, to which she gave him a very dry suuureeee.

They had far too many ingredients for blueberry waffles. He'd added extra fruits and produce, bread, noodles, fresh seafood. His favorite, chicken wings.

"Stocking up for the winter?"

"Stocking up for the week, bebesita. You already know I can eat. I'm an eater,"