I belonged to another man. I was in the home of another man. I was in the bedroom of another man. And yet, there I was, my lips pressed to someone else.
The morning sun gleamed brightly through the curtains and directly into my eyes, rousing me from my peaceful slumber. My bedroom glowed wondrously; the light reflecting off of my fluffy white blankets and splashing its own portrait onto the walls. My eyes slowly but surely began to adjust, and for the first time in a long time, I had genuinely woken up with a smile on my face.
I turned over in my bed, immediately looking over at my phone on my nightstand. Routinely, I grabbed it to check the time, only to see a few missed calls from Wilmer, a text from Ariana, and a text from Joe.
A text from Joe?
The realization woke me fully, and I sat up in my bed, unlocking my phone and opening the text.
"Morning. Car's ready for pickup. -Joe."
The text was straight and to the point, and the simplicity of this made me wonder why I'd gotten so excited in the first place. Still, I had a reason to go to the shop and see my new friend, so I stood and stretched. Glancing back down at my phone upon my comforter, I pondered calling Will back; however, my thoughts were quickly interrupted by a shriek coming from the first floor.
Immediately I began bolting down the stairs, sure that Will had come back and Ariana was hurt in some way. My heart was pounding as I sprinted through the halls, trying to find her.
"Ari? Where are you?" I yelled, feeling panicking fear pulse throughout my body. I got no response, but I kept running until finally I saw her standing alone in the kitchen. She was standing in the center of the room, staring horrifically at the white powder that covered everything in it.
Shit.
I was in trouble.
"Demetria Devonne, what on Earth is this mess!" She yelled, her hands in her hair as her eyes scanned the room. I had completely forgotten about the damage Joe and I had done the night before, not to mention the fact that Ari would be responsible for cleaning it. I stood in front of her, my bare feet sinking in a deep layer of flour.
"Ari, I'm so sorry, just don't worry about this. I'll handle it."
Her eyes narrowed when they met mine.
"What. Happened." She demanded. I gave her a cutesy smile, so that she wouldn't be angry with me.
"I tried to cook," I said, grinning sheepishly. "Turns out I'm not so good at it."
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