Fred had been relaxing on the sofa after a long day at the shop, beer in one hand, the other searching for loose coins down the back. It wasn't coins that he'd found though, but a crushed up ball of paper. He pulled it out and held it in front of his face, wondering what it was.
Later, he heard Angie come home. Fred hadn't been able to make heads or tails of that letter. And who the fuck was Derek? So many unanswered questions. Had she been....? But he didn't even want to think about that. Better not to.
He poked his head out of the kitchen to glimpse his friend quickly stowing something away. "Beer?" he called to her.
"Sure." She called back quickly, swallowing hard. But that meant staying and avoiding Fred or the topic wouldn't exactly be easy if she were there. Yeah, but you're kinda sleeping on his couch aren't you?
She swallowed again, her voice caught in her throat. Her feet however took her cautiously to the kitchen to claim a drink that she suddenly desperately needed.
"How was work today?" She asked, leaning on the door frame. The question felt forced and painfully domestic. She wasn't all too sure which part bothered her. What if he asks? Do I tell him? What if he asks about Derek? Why should you be shy, you're a grown woman. You have needs. Oh dear god Ange, that sounds painfully desperate. It's normal. You dated. So what. Why are you afraid to tell Fred? Is that what you're scared of? No, you know what you're scared of. You don't want him to look at you differently. He already does. It's not the same as it was. It'll never be like it was. You know this whole time you were wishing it was- Rubbing her head she tried to coax away the
( ... )
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Later, he heard Angie come home. Fred hadn't been able to make heads or tails of that letter. And who the fuck was Derek? So many unanswered questions. Had she been....? But he didn't even want to think about that. Better not to.
He poked his head out of the kitchen to glimpse his friend quickly stowing something away. "Beer?" he called to her.
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She swallowed again, her voice caught in her throat. Her feet however took her cautiously to the kitchen to claim a drink that she suddenly desperately needed.
"How was work today?" She asked, leaning on the door frame. The question felt forced and painfully domestic. She wasn't all too sure which part bothered her. What if he asks? Do I tell him? What if he asks about Derek? Why should you be shy, you're a grown woman. You have needs. Oh dear god Ange, that sounds painfully desperate. It's normal. You dated. So what. Why are you afraid to tell Fred? Is that what you're scared of? No, you know what you're scared of. You don't want him to look at you differently. He already does. It's not the same as it was. It'll never be like it was. You know this whole time you were wishing it was- Rubbing her head she tried to coax away the ( ... )
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