Loving Him

The Joys Of Being A Woman

Chapter Eleven -

-Megan's Point of View-

Plain. So freaking plain.

I'm staring at the walls of one of the guest bedrooms and I want to cry. It's either eggshell or seashell, almost as boring as Jay's personality. This house needs a burst of colour or else my head might explode.

I woke up this morning feeling fresh and alive. We got back home last night around eight in the evening and I fell asleep instantly. When I got out of bed this morning I felt like I wanted to do something productive. My workout clothes were dumped at the very back of my wardrobe and I was surprised they were still alright and more importantly, still fitted me.

My initial plan was to workout and take a shower then have lunch. I just so happened to walk by one of the many rooms of this overly large house and felt the need to brighten it up.

I don't know maybe my period's on it's way.

Then I thought 'maybe I should shower, eat and then move around some furniture'. Then the other, larger part of me thought 'or just forget about hygiene and your almost empty stomach, paint the room!'.

So of course I decide to paint the room.

I walk back from the garage with two completely different shades of colours in both hands. There are already four other colours on the floor. There are four walls in this room. I want to paint each wall a different colour. With there being six buckets of paint, I have a voice to make.

This decision could either make me extremely happy or have me constantly contemplating my whole life's existence and why I even have the honour of breathing every millisecond.

Pink, green, blue and yellow.

They're all pastel shades, what could go wrong?

Fifteen minutes has passed and I've only gotten an eighth of the first wall painted. It's far too quiet for my own sanity so I place my phone on the speakers and listen to The Arctic Monkeys play in the background. Now it's interesting.

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-Jay's Point of View-

What. The. Fuck.

I arrive home from work and expect complete and utter silence like I always do but I step foot inside and hear the familiarity of The Fray come on. Tracking the music down, I'm lead to one of the guest bedrooms. Once I get inside my mouth falls open and amusement washes over me.

Megan's inside in nothing but booty shorts and a sports bra and she's dancing around with a paintbrush in her hand. I don't think she realised I was here but I don't want to be the one to burst her bubble. For now I'll just enjoy the sight and tease her about it later.

"But love don't die!!" She sings at the top of her lungs as she spins around with her eyes closed. God she's sexy. I look back up to her eyes once I notice she's stopped moving her body around. Her eyes go wide and I bite my lips to stop from laughing at her expression.

"Oh god," she let's out, "how long have you been standing there?"

I can't hold it in much longer and laughter erupts out of me, "enough to hold it against you." Her cheeks flush red and her eyes widen more when the fact that she's almost in her birthday suit sinks into her mind. Dropping her paint brush, she runs out of the room. I follow after her and see that she has slammed her bedroom door shut.

I chuckle thinking about how cute my wife is.

Instead of running in the room after her to make fun of her some more, I go to the kitchen to make us some lunch. The thought of some grilled cheese sandwiches seems amazing right now. As the cheese melts deliciously on the grill, I chop up some cucumbers and tomatoes for the salad. I'm getting out some glasses when Megan walks in with a tank top and shorts and her hair damp.