Chapter 8: Just A Sandwich

"Mornin', hun." Millie sat down on the edge of the bed with steaming mugs of coffee in each hand and leaned down to plant a kiss on the center of her still-unconscious husband's forehead. Moxxie groaned at the contact and flipped himself over, wrapping his arms around one of the pillows underneath his head and pulling it in close to cuddle it. He mumbled something unintelligible under his breath and felt the tug of sleep pulling him back under again. Millie rolled her eyes and carefully nudged his side with an elbow, careful not to spill hot coffee all over him. "Mox, yer gonna oversleep again."

"...Wuh?" Moxxie asked, raising his head and shaking it a few times to get some stray hairs out of his vision. He rolled back over onto his back, running a hand through his unkempt hair. "Millie? What time is…" He shifted over onto his side and hand drifted lazily the clock on his nightstand and his eyes dilated, his fatigue quickly deserting him as the realization hit him. "Oh crumbs!" He shot up and was about to tumble out of bed when Millie, after stretching over to set one of the coffees on the nightstand, pressed a hand to his chest.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," She reassured him with a gentle smile on her face. His wide, panicked eyes met hers and she giggled, reaching up to cup his cheek. "I called Blitz and let him know we're gonna be a lil' late. Hope yer fine with walkin' to work today." Moxxie felt her grab his hand and bring it up to the mug, manually curling each of his fingers around the handle with her own until he got a strong grip on it. "Here, this should help a lil' bit." Moxxie's breathing slowed and he brought the mug to his lips, taking a sip of the dark, bitter drink. He coughed a few times as it nearly went down the wrong pipe. He noticed that Millie was already dressed and ready to go, which made him feel all the more embarrassed.

"I'm sorry, Millie," he apologized, cupping the mug with both of his hands. "I think I've just been having a hard time getting good sleep lately."

"Why do ya think that is?" Millie asked, scooching closer to him. Moxxie took another sip of his drink. "Somethin' on yer mind?"

"Well… nevermind. It's stupid, forget it."

"Mox, c'mon. If it's somethin' that's really botherin' ya, I think ya should at least tell me about it. Y'know you can tell me anythin', right?" Moxxie sighed and set his mug on the nightstand next to Millie's.

"Promise that you won't think it's stupid?"

"I promise."

"I… I guess I've had the whole weekend to get over it and rest and whatnot and spending it all with you has helped a lot, but… I don't know. I keep thinking about when that guy was wailing on you, and I tried to come save you but I… I couldn't, and I missed my shot and he had me on the ground, pressed his gun into me and…" He drifted off, turning his head away to hide the welling tears. Millie reached around and gently pushed his face back towards her. He shut his eyes and gulped, finding the strength within himself to continue. "For fuck's sake, Millie, I just couldn't protect you! I wasn't good enough!"

"Oh, Mox…" Millie took the mug out of his hands and set it next to her own before wrapping her arms around her husband and rocking him back and forth. He reciprocated, burying his face in her shoulder and letting his tears run freely. "I didn't know that it was still affectin' ya that badly. I'm so sorry, honey." They sat together for a few minutes, the silence occasionally broken by Moxxie's choked, ugly sobs. Millie stroked her hands over his back over and over again in calming, circular motions, her claws raking over his pajama shirt and digging in ever so slightly to provide just the right amount of pressure without breaking cloth or skin. "Remember what ya told me, after I woke up in your arms?"

"Mhm," Moxxie replied, his voice muffled.

"Everyone has their off-days. And that applies to you, too, mister." She turned her head and kissed him on the temple, taking a moment to breathe in and savor her Moxxie's scent. "If I can't beat myself up for a silly lil' mistake, then neither can you."

"It wasn't a silly mistake, though!" He snapped, raising his head from her shoulder and scowling at her with reddened eyes. "I almost got us both killed! Why are you not more concerned about that?! You've been so cool about it this entire time, but if it hadn't been for Loona showing up at the right time then you and I wouldn't… we wouldn't…"

"Mox. Stop. Breathe."

Moxxie did as she instructed and took a few slow, deep breaths. "Alright," she continued. "We're alive. We're safe. That's all that matters, and it ain't doin' you any good to keep dwellin' on shit that's already done, 'kay? Focus on the here and now. Be here with me." She ran her hand down his shoulder, down his arm, until she took one of his hands in hers and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"T-thanks, Millie," Moxxie finally whispered, pulling away from her and leaning over to take his drink from the nightstand again. "And I'm sorry for snapping at you, I just—"

"It's okay. No harm, no foul. Jus' don't do it again, alright?"

"Okay. I promise I won't. I'll be fine to come in today, just…give me a bit to get ready, alright?"

"Of course, baby." Millie gave Moxxie a peck on the lips and dropped off the bed onto her feet, taking her mug off the nightstand as she did. "I'll be waitin' for ya, 'kay?" She gave him a wink and moseyed out of the bedroom, sipping on her coffee as she did. Moxxie sighed and scooched back until he was sitting up against the bed's backboard. Millie was right: he should focus on the here and now and not keep dwelling on the past. But at the same time, he couldn't just let another blinding example of his incompetence slide so easily. It was the same sense of incompetence that Blitzo was always so keen to remind him of whenever he fucked up, made a mistake, or botched a job, no matter how justified the criticism was or whether or not Moxxie had corrected his errors.

He couldn't forget—didn't deserve to—because if he just moved on and didn't remind himself of his failures, he'd run the risk of something like that happening again and there was no guarantee that someone like Loona would be around to cover his ass the next time.

—

Moxxie leaned forward and examined his image of himself reflected back by the elevator doors, grunting in annoyance as he found himself dissatisfied with how he'd tied his bowtie. He undid it and let it slide off from his shirt collar and into his hands.

"Mox, why're ya still fiddlin' with yer tie? You've been doin' it since we left."

"Sorry, sorry, I'd be fine if this were my usual tie." He flipped his shirt's collar up and wrapped the length of cloth around his neck, adjusting each end to the correct height before crossing them and looping them in the correct series of movements to tie it all into a bow again. "Had to rush out the door with something on, though."

"It looks exactly like every other tie ya have, though? I don't see the problem."

"It's a different shade of red! Doesn't match as well with my jacket." He leaned in closer, readjusting the angle of the bow a few times just to be sure that he got it right. "What do you think, honey?"

Ding.

The elevator doors swung open and Moxxie found himself staring out into the hallway leading to the office.

"I think it's fine," Millie replied, grabbing him by the hand to keep him from messing with his tie and tugging him down the hall with her. "Stop worryin' 'bout it so much." Moxxie chose not to respond and only followed Millie's lead. When they reached the door, Millie turned the handle and shoved it open, entering with her husband in tow close behind her.

Before they had a chance to get further inside and do anything more, however, the door to Blitzo's personal office slammed open.

"Where the fuck have you two been?!" Blitzo screamed, storming out of his office with his hands on his hips. "You told me you'd be 'a little late,' but it's been, like, an hour! I can't run this shit without half my fucking staff!" Loona glanced up from her phone screen, her eyes flitting between the couple and Blitzo before getting back to ignoring the world around her again.

"It's my fault, sir," Moxxie answered, letting go of Millie's hand. "I slept through my alarm and it took us a while to walk all the way here. I swear it won't happen again."

Blitzo, snarling at him, stepped towards him, making direct eye contact with him like a predator stalking his prey. Moxxie braced himself for what he believed was Blitzo's inevitable tirade berating him for putting himself and his needs above those of the company. But, to his surprise, Blitzo's features instead relaxed and he let out a deep sigh, letting all of the tension leave his body.

"Alright. Whatever, shit happens." Blitzo suddenly grabbed his arms and pulled him in close, bringing his mouth to his ear and lowering his voice. "But don't make this a fuckin' habit, alright? 'Cause if you do, I'm going to make a habit of tying you down and fucking your tight little ass until you get with the fuckin' program again, is that clear?"

"Y-yes sir. Loud and clear." Moxxie gulped nervously and felt a bead of sweat drip down his cheek.

"Great! Now get to fuckin' work, we ain't got a lot goin' on today and you've still gotta catch up on all that boring paperwork shit I don't feel like doin' myself." Blitzo about-faced and strode back into his office, whistling an upbeat tune as he did and shutting his door behind him once he was inside.

"Offer's still open to help with all that paperwork," Millie remarked, wiggling her eyebrows at Moxxie. He only shrugged in response.

"Nah. I can handle it, don't worry about it."

"Alright, suit yerself. I'll just be cleanin' my knives and shit in the conference room, gimme a holler if ya need anythin'." Millie brushed past him and into the conference room, closing the door behind her. As Moxxie was about to head over to his desk, however, Loona glared up at him, making him freeze in his tracks as they stared at each other, his heartbeat rapidly picking up pace.

"You get a new tie or somethin'?" She asked, her red eyes narrowing at the bowtie around his collar. "Pattern on it's weird."

"Oh!" He looked down and brought his hands up to feel his tie, "Y-you noticed! It's, uh, n-not my usual one, I-I was rush—"

Moxxie stopped babbling and watched with held breath as Loona rose to her feet and sauntered over to him, towering over him and leaning in closer to get a better look at the piece of cloth. He felt his legs start to wobble underneath him, and the room suddenly felt much hotter than it had been before. She snarled a little as she caught a whiff of his scent, but otherwise maintained her signature indifferent expression.

"It's less shit than your other one. Wear it more."

She turned back and headed back over to her desk, sitting back down and kicking her feet up on the desk as she picked up her phone and began scrolling through Sinstagram again. Moxxie stayed in place for a few seconds longer, his mind short-circuiting while processing what had just happened. Eventually, he let his skinny legs carry him past her and towards his desk, dropping himself down in his chair with a loud thud and staring ahead at the pile of papers resting on the surface of his desk next to his mousepad.

Moxxie turned on his computer and waited for it to boot up. He looked back down at his tie, running a few fingers over it. He hadn't really noticed the barely-visible swirling pattern earlier; he'd only really taken note of its slightly darker color when he'd thrown it on earlier that morning. Now that Loona pointed it out, he agreed that the pattern was weird, but not necessarily in a bad way. Maybe he should wear it more often.

When his computer was on, he clicked on the blank spreadsheet template for application forms on his desktop, and grabbed the paper from the top of the pile to begin transcribing what little, barely-legible information was on it. Ah well, he thought to himself. Back to the shit pile.

—

…Another paper done.

Another paper done.

Another paper done.

Moxie didn't notice when Millie plopped herself down on the edge of Moxxie's desk, stretching and yawning before leaning over curiously to peek at what he was working on.

"Hey hubby, ready to head out fer lunch?"

"Uh huh." Regardless of the affirmative answer that he just gave, Moxxie kept typing away mindlessly like he was on autopilot, seemingly dead to everything except his work. She sighed, irked that he gave a complete non-answer, and waved one of her hands in front of his face as if to snap him out of a trance. "Hello, Hell to Moxxie? Ya in there?"

"Huh?" He finally tore his gaze away from his work, coming face-to-face with his evidently irritated wife. His eyes dilated as he realized that he'd just brushed her off. "Oh crumbs, I'm sorry honey, I-I-I just got so caught up in it and I d-didn't mean to make you mad and—" Suddenly, Millie's features relaxed and, with a chuckle, pulled him into a tight hug, stopping him from engaging in further self-flagellation.

"Don't worry about it, hun," she told him, pulling away while keeping her hands on his shoulders. "I get it. I can't be mad at ya for gettin' in a groove. So, ya actually ready for lunch, or ya wanna keep ridin' that groove for a while?"

Moxxie tilted his head and glanced over the spreadsheet taking up his computer screen. He was nearly done getting this particular client's information into the system, but the idea of just slugging through even more work almost made him sick to his already grumbling stomach. Okay, he thought to himself, rubbing one of his hands over his abdomen. Maybe I'm a bit hungrier than I thought.

"Yeah, I'm ready," he replied, standing up with Millie and walking alongside her back out into the lobby. As they reached the entrance, Millie reached out to grab the door handle and let them out—

"Hold up, fatty," Loona called out, stopping Moxxie dead in his tracks. He turned to face the hellhound, with Millie rolling her eyes and leaning on her hip behind him, miffed at the interruption and eager to get a move on. "Get me somethin' while you're out there."

"Get yer own damn food," Millie answered curtly before her husband could. "C'mon, Mox, let's go—"

"Hey," Loona barked, her eyes wide with barely concealed anger. "Let the little shit talk for himself. You gettin' me something or not?"

"I—" Moxxie started, ready to stand up for himself and give her a firm no. But the daggers that she was shooting at him with her expression gave him pause and, ultimately, he relented. "—f-fine, what do you want?"

"Moxxie," Millie groaned. "You don't have to—"

"Shit, I could really go for a good fuckin' cheesesteak right now," Loona uttered to herself before turning her attention back to Moxxie. "Yeah, get a cheesesteak for me, yeah?"

"A-alright. But the place we're going to is a bit, um… far-ish? Would you, um, mind waiting for a bit—"

"Are ya at least gonna give us some cash for it?" Millie interjected, giving up on trying to get her husband to just say no. "'Cause if ya don't, then yer on your own."

"Nope, but he fuckin' owes me, so you're gonna get it anyway with your own fucking money, right?" Loona stared Moxxie down as she spat out the last part of her sentence, her wild red eyes boring into his soul. Eager to deescalate the situation, mostly so that he wouldn't be on the receiving end of an incredibly pissed off hellhound, Moxxie sighed and nodded without saying another word. Millie growled, took the front door's handle in her grip, and slammed it open, forming a noticeable crack in one of the bottom corners. She snatched her husband's wrist with an iron grip and yanked him behind her as she stormed out, glowering at Loona as she and Moxxie left. Loona simply stuck a middle finger up at her as she, expectedly, continued typing away on her phone.

—

The line at the sandwich joint was much longer than usual. In fact, it was starting to wrap around the block and down the street, and if the couple had gotten there any later, there was no way that they'd be back to work in time. They'd been there for nearly fifteen minutes now, and they were about five or six people away from the front door. Moxxie groaned in discomfort, tugging on his shirt collar with the other.

"Is it just me, or has it been getting hotter since we got here? It's driving me a little crazy."

"Well, why dontcha take off yer jacket or somethin' if yer so hot?" Millie suggested, cocking her head slightly to the side.

"No! Absolutely not!" Moxxie replied with greatly exaggerated indignation, placing his hand over the slightly sweat-dampened spot on his shirt above his heart. "Millie, how could you suggest such a thing? This jacket is an integral part of how I choose to present myself, and to remove it would be to surrender to the oppressive forces of nature!" He crossed his arms and made a loud humph, continuing his little act of mock bravado. "Besides, it's not so bad. I can handle it." Millie rolled her eyes and smiled at him.

"Okay, silly. Yer choice. But I think yer comfort should always come above makin' some statement about the 'oppressive forces of nature' or whatever. Don't wantcha gettin' heat stroke out here, yeah?" The line moved forward ever so slightly, allowing both of them to take a couple steps forward; only a few seconds later, however, everyone stopped again, halting them about halfway to the door from where they'd been before. "So, a cheesesteak, huh?" Millie inquired, her voice taking on a much more serious tone.

"Huh?" Moxxie replied, cocking an eyebrow at her before realizing what she was referring to. "Oh. Yeah." He dabbed a bead of sweat off his brow with the sleeve of his jacket before reaching down and unbuttoning the rest of it, exposing the rest of his white dress shirt. "I'm not sure if she wants any toppings, so I've been thinking it over, and given that she's a hellhound it'd probably be really bad for her if she had onions, so I'll ask them to take those off. On the other hand, she'd probably be a big fan of the bell peppers, so—"

"Moxxie. Baby." Millie reached out to grab his shoulder, applying gentle pressure to bring him out of his head and back to the real world, to her. "Ya really don't have to be doin' all this stuff for her. Y'know I'd keep her from doin' anythin' to ya if we didn't get somethin' fer her, right?" Moxxie sighed and covered her hand with his own, intertwining his fingers with hers.

"Yes, but… I want to. I already told her we were going to get it for her. I'd be going back on my word, and I'd like to think that my word means something." He gently removed her hand from his shoulder before continuing. "Besides, given how she saved me—us—on that last job, I think buying her a sandwich is the least we could do for her."

"It starts with just a sandwich," Millie continued as the line lurched forward even closer to the door, her voice growing louder. "But what's it gonna be next? C'mon, hun, y'know how she is. Give her an inch and she'll take a few miles. One day it's just gettin' her lunch, and the next she'll prolly ask ya to break into some guy's home and steal a buncha shit fer her."

"You don't know that! Besides, it's just a sandwich! I don't know why you're getting so worked up and trying to argue with me about it!"

"I'm just tryin' to get ya to be more careful about doin' stuff fer her, okay?! I'm not tryin' to argue with ya! I just see how she treats ya and I worry that she's gonna keep walkin' all over ya—"

"Holy shit, can both of you just shut the fuck up?!" A large, muscular, bull-like demon with massive horns several people in front of them in the line turned and began screaming at them. His face was contorted with rage, sweat streaming down his body and staining his "No one fuckin' cares! We're all tryin' to wait in peace here! Either shut yer traps or I'm gonna shut em for ya and keep ya from damagin' everyone's fuckin' eardrums with yer yappin', capisce?" Cursing under his breath, the beast rotated back around and returned to his original position. The couple, shaken by the stranger's sudden intervention, glanced in disbelief between each other and the massive sinner that had just yelled at them.

"Fuckin' shithead," Millie grumbled, sticking a middle finger up at him behind his back. "Who the fuck does he think he is, yellin' at us like that? We were literally just havin' a conversation! Fuckin' people these days, don't know to keep their goddamn noses outta other people's business."

"Yeah, geez. Fuck that guy," Moxxie agreed, scoffing and shaking his head. "S-sorry for blowing up on you, by the way," he mumbled, his features softening as he turned his attention back to Millie. "I, uh, think the heat's starting to get to me a little."

"Yeah. Yeah, it's this damn heat," Millie answered him, much quieter than before, her voice quivering ever so slightly. She wiped some sweat from her forehead with her palm. "Geez, it's frickin' hot. I mean, I was practically born workin' in the fields, and this is grossin' me out." She watched as Moxxie finally removed his jacket, rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt before slinging it over his shoulder. "By the way, hun," she continued. "Regardless of how I feel 'bout it, I think yer bein' very considerate. Not sure if Loona's the kinda person who deserves it, but… it's sweet that yer tryin' anyway, and I'm sorry fer not appreciatin' that properly."

"Thanks, Millie. I try my best."

She pulled him into a tight hug, which he eagerly reciprocated. His heart was pounding out of his chest, both from the heat and the emotional weight of arguing with the love of his life. He hated it, hated seeing her get frustrated and angry and knowing that it was even partially his fault, even if it was just keeping her from overreacting to something silly like buying Loona a sandwich. She did have a point, of course. It probably wouldn't just stop at just innocuous things like this. "I fuckin' own you until I say otherwise," she had told him, after all, and he knew how relentless and cruel she could be with her bullying.

But he remembered how she'd been last week, when he'd taken her home after she'd gotten herself nearly blackout drunk.

He remembered how she'd been crying, her black makeup running down her face and staining her fur.

He remembered how sorry he'd felt for her, how he'd felt like a voyeur seeing a rare vulnerable side of her that, if she'd been sober and he hadn't just helped her get home, she would probably shatter every bone in his body for witnessing. He'd been expecting said body-shattering when he came into work the next morning, but what he had written off as an inevitability had never come.

If that was anything to work off of, he hoped that maybe, just maybe, Loona would prove both Millie and his worst instincts wrong, and that for once, listening to that optimistic voice in his head would be the correct course of action.

Moxxie's thoughts were interrupted by the rapidly growing burning sensation all over his body as he realized he was holding Millie for far longer than he should have while the two of them were being subjected to such unbearable heat.

He quickly let go of her, immediately feeling some relief at not having to feel her intense Thankfully, though, the line moved forward at an ever so painful pace until finally, finally, the two of them were standing in the front doorway. The wonderful smells of cooking meat and toasting bread floated through the cool air coming out of the shop, and both the wonderful smells and the instant relief of the coolness bathing over them made the couple feel leagues better than they had been before. Both of them let out sighs of relief, and Moxxie straightened out his dress shirt's sleeves again before slipping his jacket back on.

"Line's takin' too fuckin' long," Millie remarked, tapping her foot on the linoleum floor beneath them. "Real tempted to get my knives and carve my way up there, startin' with big dickwad up there." She wiggled her eyebrows at her husband and nudged him with her elbow, wordlessly suggesting that they follow through on her vocalized intrusive thoughts. He chuckled and shook his head.

"No thanks," he replied. "As fun as it might be, my suit's already pretty sweaty on it and I don't feel like getting blood on it, too. Besides, we shouldn't be getting back too late, right…?" He lifted up his sleeve and checked his watch to be sure. "Yeah. The line seems to be moving a bit faster, too, so we'll probably be fine. Well, at least I think we'll be fine."

—

Loona growled and tossed her phone down onto her desk, running a hand over her rumbling stomach. "Fuck," she groaned as she felt sharp pangs of hunger shoot out from her abdomen and spread out through her body. Those two normally weren't gone for this long. The fuck was holding them up? That sandwich better be fucking worth it, she thought to herself. If it was anything less than a goddamn masterpiece she swore to Satan that she'd park a bus up his scrawny ass fuckin' sideways. It'd be so easy to just send a fuckton of texts to Moxxie and badger him about it until he hurried his fat ass up and got her fucking food already.

Too bad she didn't have his number.

Maybe it'd be a good idea to ask him for it when he got back.

Fuck, she was uncomfortable the thought of having see his name right there in her contacts every time she opened her texts, but it'd make tugging on his metaphorical leash a little easier if she could just send him little "reminders" whenever she needed something done. That was all it'd be for, nothing more. At least, that's what she told herself.

Thankfully, before her hunger could become unbearable, Loona's ears shot up at the rattling of the front door's knob turning, shortly followed by the door swinging open.

"Took you fuckers long enough," she grumbled, staring at the imps as they stepped into the lobby together. Her eyes fixated on the foil-wrapped cylindrical object in Moxxie's arms, no doubt the sandwich that she'd made him get. Before any words could be exchanged, Millie gave her husband a quick peck on the cheek before striding past Loona into the conference room, glaring at her the entire way with a slight frown and a furrowed brow.

"I, uh, got you your s-sandwich." Moxxie finally stammered, breaking the awkward silence. He stepped towards the desk and extended his hand forward, holding the wrapped sandwich outward toward her with a forced, nervous smile on his face. "I-I hope it's to your, um, liking–"

"Gimme that," she growled, ripping the sandwich out of his hand and tearing open the foil wrapping. He watched anxiously as she savored its scent for several seconds, taking several large inhales before devouring the entire sandwich in only a few massive, messy bites, covering her desk in a layer of crumbs. "Holy fucking shit," she roared, unintentionally intimidating Moxxie into a taking a few steps backwards as his tail curled between his legs. "That was so, fucking, GOOD. Where the fuck do you guys get this shit?!"

"I-it's this little place called, u-um, DeLuca's, a few blocks away from here—"

"Get me more of that shit every. Fucking. Day. Got it?"

"I mean, if you want you can give me some money for it—"

Loona slowly turned her head and glowered at him, her eye twitching ever so slightly. Moxxie felt the temperature in the room go up by about a thousand degrees and he immediately felt compelled to backtrack on his statement for his own safety.

"—o-or I can just keep paying for it. Yeah. T-that's fine." Loona gave a satisfied grunt at his reluctant agreement and leaned back in her chair, folding her hands behind her head and kicking up her legs on the desk. "Well, um, if that's everything, I'll be getting back to work, so…" Moxxie trailed off and slowly began to step past Loona in the direction of his desk.

"Hold up," Loona spouted, making Moxxie freeze in place. He slowly turned towards her, a look of abject fear plastered on his face. She nearly blurted out laughing at how ridiculous he looked, but she managed to hold back enough so that only the corner of her mouth turned slightly upwards. She grabbed her phone from the desk, unlocked it, and navigated to the contacts app before flipping it around and extending it towards Moxxie. "Phone number. Now."

Moxxie raised an eyebrow at her, briefly confused at her demand. However, not wanting to make her impatient and get her angry, he nodded and slowly stepped forward. After a brief moment of hesitation, he took Loona's phone and typed in his name and phone number before handing it back to her. "Alright," she told him,. "Have fun with your fuckin' paperwork or whatever, fatty."

Loona felt a shit-eating grin grace her face as she watched the smaller imp scamper off around the corner back to his desk, clearly eager to put some distance between them. She focused on her phone again and, snickering as she did it, changed his name in her contacts from his actual name to just Fatass. That shit would never get old, she told herself. Well, at least for her part. Moxxie might be sick to death of it, but when did she ever give a shit about his opinion?

Well, there was that one time last week when he'd pretty much hit the nail on the head by calling her a friendless, unlovable—

No. Shut your fucking mouth. He got it completely wrong. Fucking hypocrite. Thinks he can be nice to me one second, then try to tear me down like that the next? Hell no. I'm gonna show him what happens when you try to be "nice" just to fuck with me and my feelings.

She closed the contacts app and opened Sinstagram again to continue her daily ritual of scrolling through Sinstagram and judging the shallow people endlessly posting about their "perfect" and utterly meaningless lives. Sinking back into her chair and relaxing her body now that Moxxie was well out of her way, she let out a contented sigh as she kept thinking about having the little imp at her beck and call to do whatever the fuck she wanted.