A/N- LONG UPDATE because I've been failing for too long. Sorry, it's just I kinda lost direction for quite awhile. Hopefully this isn't disappointing? As usual PM/Review/Follow/Read. THANK YOU AND MUCH LOVE!

"OH PRINCESS, WAKE THE FUCK UP!", sings Phil loudly in my ear.

It's been a couple of days after the 'incident' and Punk still continues to be sneaky but is good about spending time with me. I bet it's because I opened up about my mother…the man probably has restored his hope in me… Whatever it is, we don't really act like anything went down. Some days it's rather good but others…not so much.

I take the pillow from under my head and put it on top to cover my ears and hopefully go back to sleep. Phil takes this as a challenge so he straddles me and pulls the pillow like a game of tug of war. My breath shallow both from him being on top of me and my face being buried on the mattress, "Punk…get off…you're crushing me…", I heave.

Boy laughs out loud, "Not until you agree to get up off this bed, sweetheart."

Groaning, I let go of the pillow and continue to lie on the bed with a 220lb man on top of me, "Then continue to suffocate me."

"Come on, it's fuckin' 7 in the morning, lazy butt.", he states. You call THAT late?

"I don't work 'till 10 so…suck my dick and fuck off.", I shake in hopes that he'll fall off.

But the man is persistent. He leans over, lips next to my ear, "Don't do that…it's quite provocative.", he whispers huskily, "I'm sorry, last time I checked…I was definitely eating something…", I shiver. Why'd he have to catch on how whispering in my ear turns me on?, "and I'm not fucking off 'till you get up. I didn't go out to buy us breakfast for nothin'."

My ears perk up at the mentioning of food. These days I rarely ever eat for the simple fact that I feel fatter than ever. I sigh and fight temptation, "I'm not hungry.", I mumble unconvincingly

"Did I mention that we're having McDonald's breakfast? You know, hotcakes with some syrup, hashbrowns, sausage links, chocolate milk, I think I even got a toy.", he lists and my stomach growls, "Yeah, your definitely NOT hungry."

Flipping Punk over so he lands on the mattress, I sit up and lazily rub my eyes, "You're a making dieting a difficult task.", I tell him

"Diet? By that you mean going Gandhi? That's no diet…besides, I like the way you look—especially under me.", I turn my head and scowl at his comment. I lean over him to reach for my phone, "Or on top…either way."

Retrieving my phone and punching him in the gut, "And that's exactly why there won't be a Round2, you pig.", I stand, stretch, and check through my phone like it's the morning paper.

"Oh darn, that was my best try.", says Phil sarcastically.

Ignoring, I dig around for something to wear. Being that Punk took it upon himself to move in to my bedroom, again, his clothes are all in a heap with mine. Snatching up one of his band tees, I notice it's the Ramones, "I'm kinda relieved to see that you actually listen to good music.", I comment.

As I pass by him to get some pants, he lets his mouth hang and splutters, "Wha-what? Woman, what did you just say?", he crosses his arms, "You're one to talk…", he smirks.

It's my turn to hang, "I listen to real music. Your shit is on some Satanic level.", I start lifting up my shirt, "Now, get your ass out of my room…porfavor."

Punk pouts, "Why? I've already seen you naked.", he grins.

"Keep it up and you won't ever get another chance.", I bust out a shit-eating grin of my own.

Huffing, Punk heads towards the door, "I'm a man. I have needs.", he complains. Staring at his butt as he walks away, I mentally say the same thing, "Stare any harder and my ass will catch on fire."

Creeping onto my face is a blush. The man smirks and I throw a pair of balled up socks at him, aiming for his face but missing.

Skipping into the kitchen, yes skipping, I smell the Mickie D's breakfasty goodness. It's before 12 and I'm in a great mood without any help from a power drink, tequila shot, or weed. Today my forecast is bright and shiny, why? I don't know. Maybe it's Punk actually being here this morning, maybe it's him being here with food, maybe it's just one of those days when one just shits out fucking rainbows and happiness and shit.

"You look like a straight dime.", compliments Punk with a crooked smile.

My inner teenager giggles, "I'm wearing an oversized shirt and some pants…I got no makeup on.", it's in my nature to always put myself down. It's a girl thing…

Phillip rolls his, "You're killing my fucking wet dream right now."

I laugh, "Have yourself a little date with Vaseline and your right hand."

Phil stands with a face of disbelief, "I think I can agree with Colt…you have one dirty mouth.", I smirk, "Anyway, please have a seat milady.", he pulls out a chair and I sit down.

"Why thank you, kind sir.", I look down at my hotcakes and feel myself drool with anticipation, "Talking about Colt…he back in Kentucky?"

Phil plants himself down next to me handing me chocolate milk and in his hand a Pepsi, "He's supposed to be landing sometime today, why? You miss Scotty?"

I smile, "You jealous?"

Scoffing, "Slightly but hell that cunt is a distance away. Sorry, sourpuss BUT you're stuck with me.", he grins.

I slap his stomach, "That's cute.", I chuckle at the face he makes. I peck him on the cheek, probably the only kiss I've given him in days…weeks, "I'll just have to settle with what I've got.", I say in mock disappointment.

"Settle? Sweetheart, I'm the best in the world. I exceed 'settling'."

Rolling my eyes at him, "Someone's cocky…"

"Never. It's the truth…I can show you.", he wags his brows

Motioning with my hand for him to stop, "Put your innuendo away, I'm about to eat."

In between bites of food and horsing around, one would never believe that we're the same people who up until a few days ago were on the rocky slopes. They'd just see two people laughing while trying to steal bites off each other and tickling—two happy people in a functional relationship. We're far from that…far..

Slapping Phil's tickling hands away, I grab a napkin, "You got a lil' some'…", I wipe his mouth, "there."

Licking his lips, "Well you're very observant.", he says with a suggestive hint

I elbow him, "Shit, I didn't want you to look like more of a hobo. Honestly, Punk, that beard has to go."

Petting his facial hair, "I happen to think I look incredibly sexy."

At the statement, I burst out in laughter as he sits there with a frown, "You look like fucking Jesus.", controlling my laughter, "And I don't know if I want to do anything with Jesus…I have morals and beliefs."

Picking up his trash and mine, he stands up abruptly and tosses them out, "Fuck you, Marleene, fuuuuck you.", his face speaks of seriousness but his eyes give him away as just playing.

Sipping on my chocolate milk, "You kinda already did, Jesus.", I try but fail to not laugh.

"I am speechless.", he laughs.

I get out of my seat and hug the man. Being that he's a fucking tree compared to me, I have to stand on my tippy toes just to hook my arms around his neck, "Stop being so tall."

He lifts me up and sets me on the counter, "How about you stop being such a midget. I touch you and feel as though I'm molesting a teenager.", he counters.

I scoff, "That shouldn't be a new feeling…'cus I clearly remember being 15 and you 18 when we were going out.", I smirk proudly.

"Can't seem to win with you, can I?", I shake my head and he starts tickling me. I spasm like I'm having a seizure.

After a couple attempts to get away, I surrender, "Stop… I'm gonna…gonna piss myself.", I breathe out.

Punk sticks out his tongue and rubs his scruffy ass beard on my cheek, "It's a miracle to see you all smiles and laughs…", he caresses my cheek.

I lean into it, "Just one of those days of unexplainable happiness.", I tell him honestly

He smiles lopsidedly and furrows his brows, "You're one crazy chick, you know that?"

"Kind of got the drift when I was admitted to Suicide Watch aka Psych Ward…twice."

"Twice?", he stares at me questioningly.

And I've said too much… Looking for a way out of this pending explanation, "That's a story for a different time…uh…", I drum my fingers on the countertop, "When-when are you due back…like in Kentucky?"

Now it's his turn to avoid my questioning gaze. He bites his lip, "May.", he answers simply.

My mouth 'o' shapes. Damn, May's not that far away…My face drops somewhat, "May and then you leave me at the bus station…again.", I wince at my words. Why'd I have to say that? Always ruining the moment…

Putting a finger under my chin and tilting my face upwards, "Don't think that far ahead, beautiful. We still got time and I don't plan on making the same mistake twice.", he smiles warmly

I return his smile halfheartedly. Eventually, this was gonna happen. With us being bipolar and unstable…me, mostly, it's difficult to tell if we even have a future as a couple or something. So many things left unsaid and truths and confessions still uncovered…it's discouraging. Pulling out my phone, I notice that it's time for me to go to work, "You wanna drive me to work or you got somewhere to be?"

"I've been needing to be somewhere…let's go. I gots to drop off my woman, you know…let those pussies know what's up."

Facepalming, "I'm not territory and I'm nobody's woman…"

"And my Walking Dead comics aren't yours, yet I've seen them under your pillow. Once you start wearing my shit, and taking it…you become my wom—"

"AND I'm going out to the car…I'm an independent woman—besides, those comics just so happened to be in MY territory."

Searching through my inbox, I can't help but find Punk's ear-piercingly loud music distracting. The man just drums away on the steering music like it's gleeful, cheery music. Snaking my way over to the radio, I turn down the volume and continue reading through my phone like nothing's happened.

Randy: So, 1 of the women at catering has curly fckin' hair…I hadda txt you! How you been, gorgeous?

As the end of my lips start curving up, Punk puts the volume on full blast and my lips shoot straight down. I turn my head and stare balls of fire at the side of his head. At the stoplight, boy turns my way and grins, "Turn that frown upside down, sunshine.", he tries to pinch my cheek but I bite him, "Ouch, somebody's feeling sadistic."

"No but it seems like you're in that mood. THAT music is making my ears bleed and here you are all smiley."

He clutches his heart, "This is like the equivalent of a church choir!"

I scoff, "Yeah…one burning in the deep trenches of hell."

Putting a hand on my mouth, Phil shushes me, "Stop before I feel obligated to throw you out of this moving vehicle."

I lick his hand and he scrunches his face and removes it, "Fine, fine…I'll stop.", I tell him.

Me: That's cute? I've been…better? How about you? What are you doing?

Randy: Bttr? That's convincing. Jst missing Ads and Sam. It's hectic as hell. I NEED A BREAK! Breaking the diet w/ John, Trish, & Amy.

Randy mentioning 2 of my all-time favorite divas makes me mark the fuck out. Phil stops the car suddenly, "WHAT THE HELL?"

Sending him a sorrowful smile, "Got a little too excited…go on."

Me: Drop by & we'll catch up! Aw—Wait, Sam? OMG I LOVE THEM! Thanks for making Punk almost kill us..

Randy: FishNChips, FishNChips! Yeah, WE'LL catch up! LMAO, they sent you XOXO…Punk? Woah, somebody got a bf.

Me: Fine. When's that? SHUT UP. We're just…SHUT UP.

Randy: Smetime round Mania? Its in Chicago! LOL yall just… fuckin?At this I blush madly and chuckle a bit. I spot the parlor not far off and decide to reply and put my phone in my pocket.

Pulling up in front of the parlor, I groan. Not because I hate my job—which I don't—just the fact that I'm lazy as fuck. Sucking it up, I undo my seatbelt and take one last look in the mirror, "You look beautiful…you don't need to impress anybody."

Struggling to contain my smile, "What you talking about? Of course I do! I'm young, single, and lookin' for a sugardaddy.", I state.

Punk frowns, "The fuck do you need a sugardaddy for? Sweetheart, no man will ever emasculate himself the way I do when I wash your panties."

I blush and smack him, "Fuck you."

"Whenever!", he says with a low chuckles.

My hand reaches for the door and Phil quickly undoes his seatbelt, walks around the front of the car, and open it himself. I sit there half taken away, "Okay?"

He frowns again, "You definitely don't know how to appreciate chivalry."

Rolling my eyes, "Why thank you, kind sir.", I grin mockingly, "That appreciative enough?"

"Somewhat.", he puts an arm around my waist and leads me to the sidewalk by the driver's side and pulls me to him.

I sway my attention to the surroundings because this whole PDA with him throws me off, "So…I gotta go to work…"

"I know, I know…just letting these bastards know to keep to themselves…", he replies with a smirk.

I poke my cheek with my tongue to avoid another smile, "Oh really? Last time I checked, I was as single as a dollar bill."

"Shit, I'm trying to change that, dollface."

My phone vibrates and I loosen his hold to read it, Bree: Wrap it up, Juliet [; !

Phil laughs and I turn around to see that Bree, JoAnne, Carlos, and Jee have all gathered around the front door with broad smirks. I flick the off before turning back to Punk, "I have to go.", I stand on my tippy toes to kiss his cheek, "What you gonna be doing all day, Prince Charming?"

"My lips are still sealed, Cinderella. If one thing's for sure, I'm working out."

I frown. His habit of refusing to let out info STILL frustrates me, "When are you going to tell?", I huff out.

He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, "As soon as you open up to me?", I freeze up, "Hey, hey…c'mon now. We had ourselves a good morning—don't start with that gloomy look."

"Just…", I gaze deeply into his beautiful eyes and soften up, "I'm trying."

He kisses my forehead, "I know…I'll see you at home.", he squeezes me and lets go. As soon as I start dragging myself to the front doors, he shouts, "Marleene!", I turn around. He strides towards me, puts a finger under my chin, and kisses me tenderly leaving me dazzled, "So they'll have something to tease you about, beautiful.", he says with a smirk.

Sure enough, upon entering the bitch, I get a shower of kissy faces and lip smacking. Fuck you, Phillip, fuck you.

Turns out that I should've just stayed in my warm, cozy bed today because at the moment, or for the past 5hrs of my life, I've been taking calls and scheduling appointments. None of those goddamn appointments are for me, I figure because of the scene involving me all those days ago. Top all of that and account for the dirty looks Claudia has been sending me. I'm about to go Muhammad Ali on a bitch… Not all is horrible, instead of lounging about; I've been working on my cover-up tattoo.

By the way I've let my hand work away, I'm going to be sporting a Japanese cherry blossom tree, that'll hopefully cover-up my old tat, with the words 'Leaving the past, staying in the present, moving towards the future.' Everything looks good, should be after a couple of sessions.

Doors open letting in a short gust come in making me shiver. My finger runs down the session list and nothing appears to be set for the time. I look up to greet the client and receive a thunderbolt of shock. Every tattooist stops what they're doing in shock and confusion.

Gulping a putting on my bravery mask, "Back to work!", slowly everyone does so. Nervously I confront this "client", "Alfredo, what the fuck are you doing here?", I spit.

Maybe I failed to mention but Alfredo is my ex from back before I date Punk. Throughout the years he grew into becoming one of the most influential gang leaders around Lockport—leader inside the Gangster Disciples. Obviously, all human life around here knows who this bastard is and is scared of the man who is flanked by his little crew of teenage gangbangers. Am I afraid? Yes. There's a tragic story behind it my fear…always are stories for why people are scared…

Alfredo taps his chin and laughs as well as his crew, "Why, I simply wanted to catch up…we got a lil' bit of history, you and me."

"I told you, I never wish to see your ugly ass face EVER. AGAIN."

He chuckles some more, "My…what a mouth you got on that doll-like face of yours…I guess it was always better with my—"

"NOT. ANOTHER. WORD. Not another one."

Raising his hands in defense, "Okay, down kitty, down.", he puts his hands down, "As I said, I came here to catch up with you, preciosa.", he tries to touch me and I slap him away.

I look at him with repulsion, "I'm not into talking cunt bastards like you.", I sneer, "Gangbanger my ass, ya'll just a bunch of overgrown, putos runnin' around like pussies from rivals…Haven't ya' heard? Real 'bangers reside in the CITY?"

Gasps resound around the parlor and one of Alfredo's bitches come front and center to try and defend their "honor". Alfredo holds him back. He sighs, "Stop with the 'Bad Bitch' act and let's go somewhere private and talk.", he growls tight-lipped

"No. I suggest you get out of Wes's parlor o—"

He pulls a strap from his jacket and holds it in firing position. People start screaming, causing a ruckus. My heart drops into the frying acid inside my stomach. Why do I always get stuck in these situations? My lungs seem to disperse and my nerves shake like a jackrabbit, "OR WHAT? DO WHAT I FUCKING SAY. I DON'T GOT YOUR SWEETASS TIME, BITCH."

Hell is loose in this damn establishment so I raise a hand, "EVERYBODY C-C-CALM DOWN!", I reach over to position his gun straight in between my eyes, "If you're gonna kill me, make sure I'll die on impact, pussy.", I start moving towards Carlos's office, "Leave your crew outside."

Alfredo snaps his fingers, "Outside, keep watch.", they oblige and trudge outside. The bitch turns to the patrons and workers, "Anybody come in for the girl, she's with an old friend."

Upon entering Carlo's office, the man himself shoots straight up with a look of defiance and attempts to hold down the situation, but I just kick him out for his own good. Alfredo locks the door shut behind him and turns to me. Again, I feel like a fucking gazelle being preyed on by a starving lion. My bravado crumbles, piece by piece.

The leader sits on the desk and I move away, "All by yourself you ain't so bad a bitch, huh?", he chuckles.

I wring my hands to control my shaking, "What do, do you want?"

Picking up a framed picture of my beloved bestfriend, Wesley and his father, Dips, he taps on it, "It's a shame, y'know, that he didn't die in pain…"

My head flames up and I stay planted trying to restrain myself but my fear is enough, "Rot in hell.", I say.

"Heard your girl, McKenzie, had his bastard…what was it?", I bite my lip, "Fine, fine…my cousin did good in not knocking you up. We don't need sluts in the family."

"You've got enough.",

In two steps he's over pinning me to the wall with his hand gripping my neck. My body trembles exudes fear. Feels like Noah. This is his cousin after all…, "I've had enough of that mouth. Don't you remember what I can do?", he whispers, running his disgusting fingers down my neck.

"J-j-just tell me what you want…"

He smirks, eating off of my fright, "At first I came here as a messenger but maybe I'll leave a satisfied client."

Uncomfortable shivers roll through me, "I don't bustdown."

"Once a prostitute, always a prostitute. Shit, last time I got a freebie…"

Flashbacks fly back and my breakfast threatens to pour out, "Sick son of a bitch.", I whisper.

He caresses my face, "Now, now don't cry. I'll just settle with leaving you this letter.", he releases me and I gasp for air. He throws a letter to me and pulls my hair, "On second thought…", he kisses me forcefully; fondling me through my shirt and a knock raps at the door.

"Marleene, nena, entendimos que regresaste!.", sings a cheery Thalia.

Thank you. THANK YOU. Alfredo lets go of me and motions me to keep quiet. I scramble for the letter and fix myself up as best I can, "Utter a word, bitch and you're as good as gone."

Shakily I nod. I stroll to the door and open it. Standing there with Eli in arms is Phil with a suspicious look in his eyes, "He-hey, Thalia…Rams…baby.", I say acknowledging them.

Giving me a onceover, he eyes Alfredo, "Hey girl…Alfredo, what you doing here?", Ramses asks handing me his kid.

He coos and I reply, "He's um…dropping by."

Ramses raises a brow, "Cuzzo, c'mon…you know we ain't want you around here."

"It's BIC to you, pussy."

"BIC, huh…what's it stand for? Big, ignorant, cunt? Eres una desgracia a la familia"

Alfredo sizes Ramses up, taking his gun out, "Watch yourself. You dunno who you talking to."

My friend clearly is less buff but taller than the gangbanger looks down at the gun and chuckles, "Really? You need a gun to defend yourself? Bitch, step out. Real men, they use their fists."

Tapping his foot, the leader points his gun at the baby wrapped in my arms and I panic, "No, no…please!"

Thalia begins to shout, "No, no mi bebe no!"

"You hear that? I suggest you move before something tragic goes down."

Ramses stands down, and Alfredo smirks, "Alright, Chiquita…this ain't the last you'll hear from me.", he caresses me and Ramses readily lunges to try and defend what honor I have left but, thankfully, Carlos restrains him.

Long after the whole fucked up mess I got everybody into, I sit down on one of the counters crying my eyes out into Carlos's shoulder while patrons calm down upstairs with the employees as well. Ramses rants, pacing about as his wife, or soon-to-be wife, holds her baby tightly in her arms.

"Te-tenia tanto miedo! I thought he…he was going to-to…oh god, Carlos…", my incoherency just lets the Californian know to what level I'm on the scared-o-meter.

He rubs my back to try to soothe me, "Babygirl, if he wanted cash—you coulda jus' givin' him…you know the safe code."

"NO! E-el queria…a mi! He wanted to fucking…his hands—he touched me…I felt—feel dirty.", I sob.

Once upon a time, on this Spanish talk-show…they had these real life hookers and the whole sorbet come on and talk about what it is they do. One in particular caught my heart and bled it out. They asked her if she was ever raped. With a straight face, she replied like it was nothing that yeah she had…multiple an occasion. Everybody gasped and held some teary-eyed the girl…an 18yr old babygirl. They asked her why she's a laid back about it. Her words haunt me to this day, 'It's happen to me so many times, I guess it's just normal. I don't feel scared—just mad that I don't get the money.' In the short-time I was in her same business…the 3 different times I was raped—never was it 'just normal'. I'm scarred, broken, and changed—forever afraid but I just choose to wash away and try to move on.

"Pinche bastardo, hijo de la gran—I should've killed him when I had the chance all that time ago. He threatened my mujer, my son, and my friend!", rants Ramses.

A muscle car pulls up and I notice it to be Wes's. I suck in a breath and at my eyes and straighten up. I'm tense but Phil cannot know, God only knows how he'll react—or what he'll do. I eye, Rams and his family, "Go upstairs.", I command but they just stand motionless, "GO.", the powerwalk, "Carlos no digas nada. Nomas follow lo que yo diga.", he sighs but nods.

No sooner that I finish fixing myself up does Punk come in with 2 little surprises: the kids. Dominick shrieks and runs into me. Jumpy and all, telling me a thousand things at once but stops and yells, "AUNTIE!", I scoop him up and smile, "I missed you."

"I-I missed you too, mijito."

Punk nods in acknowledgement at the former gangbanger, "Well who is this lil' princess?", coos Carlos uncharacteristically at the baby in Phil's arms.

"Name's Eli. Say 'Buenas tardes'" Phil nudges to the clueless baby.

"Damn, just 18 years older and I'd go out with her.", jokes Carlos, "Can I hold her?"

Phil shrugs and hands her over and then approaches me, "Surprise!"

I smile at him, praying that he won't notice my puffy lips or eyes, "I'm actually caught off guard. It ain't my birthday, so…?"

"Just thought we could chill with the twerps…I know you've missed 'em. Got myself out of what I was up to and yeah… So, you're welcome.", he kisses me PG-ratedly.

"Yuck!", says Dom with his face scrunched up, "Get a room, Uncle and Auntie."

We all laugh, "Will do, Champ.", winks Phil.

My arms tire out so I set Mick's eldest down and hold myself as Punk's gaze locks me in place, "What?", I ask.

"You've been crying…", he whispers embracing me, "Who am I gonna beat up?"

I freeze, "N-nobody, just reminiscing about…Wes…yeah, I dunno I guess it's still a fresh wound afterall.", even I feel unconvinced.

"Hm…maybe some time at the park will be good afterall.", suggests Phil.

Carlos clears his throat to gets our attention, "She's cute as fuck…really looks like y'know."

Phil and I get the drift and smile, "Yeah…it's nice. I'm going to clock off early, that okay?"

"Don't worry I got you covered…we're just gonna get drunk tonight…so yeah."

I embrace Carlos, "Text me if anything.", I whisper and he nods.

Phil does that bro thing and Dom says 'bye'.

Sometimes, most of the time, I believe that it's all a lie…being an adult rocking and shit. The reality is, it sucks ass. Growing up isn't what it seems. Drama, drama, and more drama; mix in deceit, heartbreak, wrinkles, and need for money—it's hell. And to think that I was in such a hurry to grow up… Watching Dominick monkey around with other children: just another reason is why being a kid is so much better.

A tiny life-form wiggles and coos in my arms which catches my attention. This kid, one that I've neglected—the world has neglected, has grown so much in such a short time. Barely 2months old and to me she's grown too much. Staring at her, I see a mixture of Wes and Micks. Like Phil, I feel a sense of calm. I no longer feel the need to have her away, looking into that angelic face does that.

"I'm back! Miss me?", announces Phillip with a pink diaper bag and Batman blankie slung on his shoulder.

I smile genuinely, "A fraction of a bit. You look cute…almost daddy material."

Punk scoffs, "A fraction, you're cold. Not trying to be conceited—what the hell, I'm fucking cute and you're pretty. Switch it and we'll make pretty cute babies.", he winks.

I chuckle, "Yeah…right…"

"I see you've bonded with her…she's an easy truster.", he comments sitting next to me, "My 2 beautiful girls getting along, how adorable—makes me wanna cry.", he jokes. He wraps his arm around me and I tense up, "What's wrong?"

Pecking him on the cheek, "Chilly as fuck."

H snatches my blankie up and wraps it around me, "Better?"

"Much.", I stare around and then at him to make he ain't Alfredo and that the bitch's crew or bitch himself ain't around and lean into Punk, "Hug me back, tool."

He chuckles lowly, "Demanding…"

The letter in my pocket ruffles which eats at my fright and curiosity but I refrain from mentioning or opening. Yeah, I shaken up but being here, with Phil…the kids…enjoying the sunset is fine and calming—surreal and yet normal. It's cliché but cliché is better than anything else right now.

"Punk…"

"M'yeah?"

"You're making being stuck with you…bearable, you know?", he laughs, "Thanks for washing my panties…and all the extra shit you do for me."

He cocks his head at me, "Am I missing something?"

I frown slightly, "I'm being appreciative and you're soiling it, ass."

He zips his mouth, "Continue…"

I chuckle, "That was it…"

"Oh…does this mean you're letting me in?"

Leaning in, "Progressing.", I kiss him with passion and push my problems away—or try.