Just a short little fic I felt inspired to write one night at like 230 in the morning.


Watching the women dance before him wasn't as thrilling as it used to be. He'd hold his wife as they lay in bed and when he heard her breathing reduce to a whisper and little snoring noises coming out of her, he would get up, dress and head to the local club. As part of their vows, he had sworn to be faithful to her. He kept his vows. He treasured those more than any possession he owned. Still, he was human and these women were perfect. He never touched, he never tipped, he only watched, and drank. He was home before three and he would crawl into bed, smell her hair and kiss her softly on the lips. He would sigh and take comfort in the fact that she was not off doing what he did. He would lick his lips, tasting the stale strip club whiskey that lingered and he would lull into a deep sleep. The same phrase was uttered every night before he lulled into a restless sleep.

I love you Anya.