Still Just Friends

03 ♚ Carry Me Home

[Helloo. I'm trying to keep this story as author-note-less as possible. But, guys. It's totally okay to comment until your fingers fall off. I'm okay with that. I like responding to them. Also, Vote & Comment if you enjoyed and more to come :)].

 

 

Chapter Three, "Carry Me Home"

Drunk – Ed Sheeran

 

 

Ethan's POV

 

"What do you plan to do today?" Shannon asked. She was folding baby clothes and putting them into drawers. We were in the nursery at their home that was almost as big as my entire apartment back in Idaho.

I almost felt like I was home for a moment when I stepped in, save for the pain blue walls. My walls back home were a medley of colors that overlapped and crisscrossed like a drunk rainbow.

Shannon was haphazardly throwing clothes into the drawers and closing them. "Isn't today your last day here?" she asked. "It's Sunday already."

"If Josh saw how you were putting them into those drawers, he might have a cornea," I said.

"I just pushed a human baby out of my who-ha and he's going to name him Isaac," she responded, dry-heaving at the last part. "I think he'd be okay with me throwing clothes into a drawer, considering I'm going to have to deal with being vomited on, on a daily basis."

She tried to stand, but stumbled, so I jogged over and helped her to her feet. She responded by playfully pushing me off of her. We were both still in our underwear, which she seemed pretty chill about. "What are you anyway?" she asked.

I curved a brow upward. She responded by mimicking me and leaning against the white crib. "Are you...gay? Bisexual?"

"Oh," I snorted. "I'm Ethan."

She punched me lightly. "You can't dodge that question forever, you know," she said.

"I know,' I answered. "But I'm currently having another crisis at the moment and I don't need an existential one too. That's like eating week old cake and then getting spoiled pizza. But, then again, when has pizza and cake ever been a bad thing? I mean, I could probably handle the both of them, spoiled or not. They're both delicious and I could just wait for-"

"Ethan?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

"Okay."

"Knock knock."

We both eyed the door. Karla was standing there with a gift in her hands, hair swept back into a bun and dressed in a pants suit. I called her look the Overly Ambitious Young Political Hopeful. But, she actually worked on Wall Street as a broker. And a damn good one.

"Ready to go to the doctor?" she asked, setting the present on the drawer closest to the door.

"Yeah," Shan said. She squeezed her boobs. "I'm going just like this."

"Don't be a dick," Karla snorted and moved so Shannon could walk passed her. "And hurry it up, missy."

She turned back to me. I stood a few feet away from her. She, away from me in the door's frame. It was like a Mexican stand-off. I could hear the Spanish guitar in the distance. Only question was – who would draw first?