810 The Present Mistake
Coming back ho, stuffed to the brim with lted butter and maple syrup, and with Adalia by my side, I didn’t think there could have been a better hocoming – until Ash’s lovely smile ca and greeted us in all its radiance with just a swing of the front door.
After being out in the snow all day, basking and reveling in a Christmas that never seed to end, Ash’s presence – her grace and her demure, beholding that signature bow of hers that never fails to send my heart a-flutter – was like feeling the humid breeze in a tropical oasis set amid a winter paradise.
Then there was also Mr. Black yowling his welcos, the cozy comfort of the thermostat blasting the cold off of my body, and just the general feeling of being back ho – only a rare few things could beat out such bliss, and coincidentally enough, two of the few can also be found living under the sa roof as .
How convenient that was, right?
Unsurprisingly enough, the first chance she found to do so, Adalia lunged for my neck with itching fangs – sipping on her sleeping juice with the faintest trace of chocolate milkshake still lingering in her deep contentful sigh right after.
She was fast asleep a minute later, without uttering a single word and only briefly nuzzling herself on as her goodbye-good-night. Must have been really feeling the fatigue if she couldn’t even muster the energy to hop in the bathtub with .
“I’ve wrongly anticipated your return much earlier,” Ash said, closing the front door with a faint click. “But I surmise, Master, that I am not wrong in presuming that yesterday’s affairs did not co to an end with the arrival of dawn, did it?”
“Took a detour, had sothing to eat first on the way,” I explained, gently sliding Adalia’s bow loose to better her slumber, setting it aside on the table in front of the couch. “She didn’t want the fun to be over just yet.”
“Of course, she would not want it to,” She said, erging into the living space, staring back with her soft, green gaze. “Neither would I.”
.....
If only I had an extra pair of stretchy arms, I would have just reached out and given her the world’s tightest, most loving hug that’s ever been given in the history of hugs.
Strolling us by on the couch on her way to resu her daily morning routine, Ash took one glance at the state of my clothes, spotting every shredded line and exposed bit of skin, and with her lips narrowing to an almost knowing yet vaguer smile, quietly offered to patch every tear while coyly tugging at a small in my collar.
Honestly, I really wasn’t up to the prospect of having Ash stitch up these particular kinds of wear and tear – especially considering what made them in the first place – but it turns out she wasn’t asking.
“If you would, please hurry and refresh yourself at once, Master,” She requested, and it was then I noticed as well she was wearing the very sa set of clothes I’d loaned her long ago. My jacket, my jeans, still fitting her slender figure to utter perfection with slight hints of her more recent patchworks entwined with the old and weary seams. “I wish to tend to them at my earliest convenience. I will make them an utmost priority.”
“No, just – when you find the ti, Ash,” I whispered back, a slumbering Adalia stirring slightly atop my lap. “They’re not really important, not like I’m gonna need them anyti soon.”
“And you speak as if you’ve brought upon a burden to bear,” She replied, having walked and stopped just a short way away from the kitchen, where a set of utensils and ingredients were laid out on the counter, and she turned, wearing a sorta mildly exasperated look that was betrayed by a small simper pulling at her lips. “Tell , Master, would you really abstain from the utter pleasure of serving you?”
I carried a warm and fuzzy feeling with when I went and clock into work on that very sa bright and chilly afternoon day – and I have to stress that I did so begrudgingly, knowing of the great sacrifices I have made in the nasake of peak custor satisfaction.
Like, do you know what kind of willpower it took to willingly detach myself from such a place of wholesoness? Especially with Ash being so especially endearing after being a whole day apart, what kind of heartless, unfeeling sociopath would one have to be to not want to stay ho forever?
But no – society beckons. Obligations call, and I must dutifully answer. Such is the trite and true way of man living in the 21st century. And so with a heavy heart and a wearier mind, I rounded myself behind the counter of cakes, creams and coffee, and relieved the morning soldiers from the battlefield so that I may continue fighting in the front lines in their stead.
Thankfully, Christmas day must have equally worn out most of the opposing forces as well. Chairs were mostly vacant, the machines didn’t require any refills, and only about twenty minutes into the shift did I finally get my first actual custor of the day. It truly was all quiet on the western front.
My phone buzzed a few tis over and only when I was certain that no one was looking, I straightened myself all inconspicuous-like and took a peek.
read the ssage.
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