Groaning, Jerome heaved himself up out of bed. He pawed at the other side of the bed, groggily noticing that the other was missing. His brow furrowed for a short second before tossing the comforter off of him. Actually, off of their bed, but did Jerome care. No. He didn't. He just got up and walked out in the living room.
It was here, on the couch, where Mitch sat. All dressed for work and watching T.V, a plate of half-finished eggs laying on their coffee table in front of him. Jerome didn't say anything, just ambled on into the kitchen. Smiling at the fact that Mitch left the eggs out for him, he fixed himself a plate. He then went back out to Mitch and sat beside him.
Mitch didn't notice the bacca at first, seeming to focus on the news way too much. When he did happen to notice the other, he greeted him. "Morning." Then stuffed his face with more eggs. Jerome took a bite of his, then set it down on the table next to Mitch's plate and glass.
"You done with everything this early? I'm proud." Mitch rolled his eyes, casting his glance back to the T.V when the story they were broadcasting changed.
One more victim in a string of murders that is sweeping across southern California. Said victim seems to have killed by the same serial killer that we've done reports on before; due to the certain way the throat was slit, causing the victim, a Mrs. Kelly Bunting, to bleed to death behind a bar. This killer kills women using the following method; He ties his victims feet to a rafter, hanging them upside down, slitting their throat, and letting them bleed out. However, the same cannot be said for the male victims which are hung by the feet, then slowly cut in half, bottom to top. We are doing all we can to apprehend this criminal that has been nicknamed by the general public, The Butcher. Since this was the name that was given to us, this is the name that we here at the station will continue to use. If anyone has any information as to what happened on that night, or who this sorry excuse for a human being is, please alert your county police. Thank you, that's all for now, more on this story at 8…
The segment ended shortly after that, flipping to a different news thingy. Jerome stared at the T.V incredulously, dead silent. Then, out of the blue, started laughing... "The…Butcher?! You've gotta be kidding me. That's my nickname?! Wow…" He was tearing up at just how much he was chuckling, gently pounding on the couch cushion. He grabbed the remote and turned the T.V off. "Gee, thanks 'General Public,' love you too."
"Jerome…" He turned to Mitch, and boy did he not look happy. "You need to be more careful. I don't want you getting caught." He grabbed his plate, getting up from his seat and walking into the kitchen to lay it on the counter beside the sink.
When he walked back in, Jerome waved him off. "Yeah, will do." He linked an arm around the back of couch, watching Mitch carefully as he grabbed his messenger bag from a hook near the door.
"I'm heading off, you're on your own for dinner. I'll probably be late again, sorry." Mitch open the door causing Jerome's half-naked form to shiver from the cold, autumn air. He gave a semi-apologetic smile before closing the door behind him.
The younger huffed, grabbing the blanket from under the couch, trying to prevent freezing to death by wrapping it around himself.
"I fucking hate Mondays." He laid back, head landing on the armrest. The green-eyed man looked at the table right beside his head, noticing that his phone was plugged in. It took some effort, but Jerome managed to get it and unplug it.
He turned it on, and unlocked it. 1 new message. The phone read. He clicked on Mitch's contact and read the message over a few times in his head.
Oh, I forgot that the pizza I ordered last night is still in the fridge, you can have that if you haven't already found it. C: Have a good day, love you.
Jerome smiled deviously, getting up off the couch to sulk to the fridge, still wrapped in his fuzzy blanket to go get the promised pizza.
*Time Skippy Thingy*
About an hour later, Jerome is sitting back on the couch. In this time, he has put on a pair of fluffy pajama pants, a tee-shirt, and socks. He also has the box of already warm pizza sitting on his lap. With an ice-cold beer in his left hand and the remote in his right, he turns on the T.V and flips to a random show, finally enjoying his Monday.
Meanwhile, Mitch is having one of the worst Monday's of his life. When he was pulling into his parking spot, he spilled his coffee on his shirt attempting to swerve away from a squirrel. A. Motherfucking. Squirrel. When he did manage to get to his desk, he realized that his bag was filth, complete and utter chaos.
"Fucking…. UGHH!" Mitch slammed his head on his desk, hearing a small laugh when he did so.
"Well. You sound like you've had fun today." He lifted his head up to look at the secretary, Ms. Sedes. Or, as she prefers to be called, Katherine.
He took the wad of papers and shoved them into her hands. "Yeah, a great morning. Now, work your secretary magic and make these," I put more pressure on the papers. "…go away." She picked them up. Lifted her arms up above a trash can and let the mess fall in.
"Poof, magic." Mitch couldn't help but chuckle at her antics. Regardless of what shit he was dealing with, Katherine could always make him laugh. "So…" She pulled her chair over and sat down in front of him. "What's up? You look like shit, you know, some offense."
I scratched the back of my head. "Some taken. I spilt my latté on myself in the parking lot, tripped on my feet in front of the board of directors, oh and I haven't been laid in like 2 weeks. So yeah, I feel like total shit right now." I stopped my ranting, seeing that she was starting to get a little tired of it. So I tried to change the subject.
"Hey, did you see the news this morning? The story about that one serial killer?" I asked.
Find out if she did watch the newscast in the next episode of Dragon Ball Z! Yes, I know. I'm a tease but. -_- eh.