The Death of a Comfortable Future(working title)

Ch. 1

Authors Note: This is a sample. If enough people comment/vote for it I will write and publish chapters, but I don't want to put trash out there so please if you do read this, comment/vote so I know that it isn't 100% trash.

"Quincy, we really have to hurry up if we want to get there on time!"
"You know I don't want to go! I don't..." He put one finger up to my lips, and I stopped talking, his touch electrifying me like it always has. I let out a small scoff, him shushing me felt playful. I gently pulled his pointed finger to my hip, resting it in my belt loop as I smiled and leaned in for a kiss. This boy has managed to drive me crazy for eight and a half years, and every touch still felt as good as the first.
"Quincy, you going to the art show gives you the rights to this sort of shenanigan. But I'm going out, with or without you," he breathed into my lips which hovered an inch away from his. One of his favorite words is "shenanigan". It has always been cute how he can never even breath a single dirty word. The first time he swore in front of me he cried. He didn't even swear, he said crap. It probably has a lot to do with his Christian upbringing, and how he wants to try to have minimal sins to show "God" he deserves to get in even though he's gay. He's my little angel, and no God, real or fake, deserves him.
"You know the art show is irrelevant to kissing... I'm too irresistible for you to make that kind of threat and have the willpower to carry it out," I retorted, my humble persona canceling out the arrogance of that comment, which made it into sort of a suggestive joke. His nose crinkled, halfway between upset and amused.
"I know you don't like art that much, but everyone is going to be there. And I know how social you are," he sighed, as a last hope persuasion, pulling away from my face finally. He turned away just enough so that I couldn't see his eyes anymore. He always did this when he was about to cry. I can't understand how he gets worked up over an art show. The way he whispered told me he would be extremely hurt if I refused. Will has always been sensitive. Right as I was about to change my mind, my phone vibrated and Beyoncé was suddenly singing from my back pocket. Wait, but that's not my ringtone...? I soon realized it was Will's, Lord knows why it was there, but I pulled out the 2 week old smartphone, my wedding band clinking against the unscratched screen. If I ended up having nicked the screen, I was going to be so upset. I was the one who payed for it anyways. I passed the phone over to the man in front of me, seeing one of his best girls was on the line. He smirked up at me while swiping the screen to answer.
"Oh my oh my Miss American Pie, what is your beef?" Sometimes Will acted pretty stereotypically gay, and picking up the phone for one of his best girls was definitely part of that "sometimes".
He chatted with Courtney for about all of 10 seconds, before it started to sound like he was trying to soothe her rage. After talking at about a mile a minute for a minute he then hung up.
"Court's mad that we aren't at her place yet, I told you we had to hurry up."
"I'm not going. Will, I've got work" my words immediately slapped him across the face, and he slouched a little, looking defeated. I felt the lie sting in my throat like Will's face hurt metaphorically. He took a deep breath and collected his disappointment into his lungs, then released it all back out at my face, saying, "There's always work when you need there to be."
"Will I'm sorry. I don't even like art anyways."
"Quincy, we always go to your sports games. We always go out to your clubs, and your restaurants. But when my favorite art show finally comes to our city, you can't be bothered to take 5 hours to muster through something I enjoy."
"Will... Please don't be too mad." I felt a sense of desperation, I hated when he was mad. I hated when we were fighting. He shook his head ever so slightly, letting out a gust of emotion. He collected himself and looked up at me with a straight face,
"Save it baby, I want to use my anger later, in bed." He smiled at me, winked, then turned around and walked out of the penthouse. He looks damn good in a white tux.