19. Here comes the party pooper part 1

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Flashes of happiness appeared before my eyes. Rylie, holding a flute of wine, smiling her dazzling smile. Rylie, wearing only a t-shirt and knickers. Dazzling. Rylie, laughing in a cemetery. Rylie kissing my lips.

Why did it have to be like this?

But first, I have to tell you what happened earlier today. Oh boy was this a bad day.

It started pretty normally. I woke up at Rylie's apartment— I stayed late and she let me sleep in her couch— and the sun sprayed its golden sprinkles on my face. Glorious vitamin D. I stretched, ignoring my back that screamed- couches  aren't that comfy. Getting up, I took in the scent of melted chocolate that came from the kitchen. Rylie was already up. She wore a long blue skirt and a nice white blouse that fell on her waist. I smiled to myself. She always looked like a Disney Princess...

" Hey."

She turned towards me, smiling.

"Hey, you!"

I almost ran to her, hugging her. She squirmed.

"What's with you today?"

"You're pretty."

"That's enlightening. What's with you today?"

I chuckled.

"I dunno. I'm in a good mood—"

"I swear, if you say it's because I'm pretty today—"

"— because you're pretty today—"

"I'm gonna kill you."

"Don't  say that! I'd be dead."

"That's exactly what I want."

" You look at me and babe I wanna catch on fire—"

" Don't a star is born me right now."

" Why not?"

" Cause I said so!"

" Argh."

She hugged me and turned away, grabbing a pan.

" Chocolate pancake?"

I pouted.

" Only if I get to compliment you."

"Then you're not getting none, babe."

I tried grabbing the pan.

" Babeeee"

" No! You're not getting any. Been a bad boy."

" Pleaseeee."

"No!"

I managed to grab the handle. I spun her, putting her slender back against the counter. Watching her intently, I took the pancake, spilling a little melted chocolate, and ate it slowly.

" No—"

"Mmh. Delicious."

"You're vicious."

"It tastes like victory."

" It must taste like mean."

"It really doesn't."

"It really should."

I bent over and grabbed her waist, pulling her against me, kissing her with my chocolate covered lips.

Murder she wroteWhere stories live. Discover now