The flickering light from the massive TV screen casts eerie shadows across Erica's living room, making the ornate furniture look like looming monsters. I'm nestled in her arms tightly, trying to focus on the episode of "Gilmore Guys" we've been binging.
Erica shifts beside me, her piercing blue eyes narrowing as she takes a long drag from her cigarette. "I still don't get why you like this crap, Jason." she mutters, smoke curling from her lips. "It's just a bunch of dudes yapping."
I can't help but chuckle at her blunt assessment. "It's not that I like it, exactly." I say, my eyes drawn to the way her blonde hair catches the TV's glow. "It's... complicated."
"Try me," Erica challenges, raising an eyebrow as she stubs out her cigarette in a nearby ashtray.
I sigh, searching for the right words. How do I explain that this show is a lifeline to a world that no longer exists? A world where Brooke, not the sister I have now, but the one I used to have, would curl up next to me on Friday nights, quoting every line?
'I'm only watching it now to see the differences. Rodrick Gilmore is an insane name for the character.'
"It's just... familiar, I guess. Comforting." I offer lamely, knowing it's a weak explanation.
I sink deeper into Erica's embrace, her strong arms a comforting cage around me. The TV drones on, but I'm barely paying attention anymore. My mind keeps drifting back to the other day, to the cold fury I felt, the knife in my hand...
As if reading my mind Erica catches me. "Hey." She murmurs, her breath warm against my ear. "We're gonna keep taking it easy for a bit longer, okay?" Her fingers idly trace patterns on my arm, soothing yet possessive.
I swallow hard, anxiety bubbling up in my chest. "I'm sorry," I whisper, shame coloring my words. "I shouldn't have…"
"Shhh." she cuts me off, her grip tightening slightly. "You're safe. You're with me. That's what matters."
I nod, not trusting myself to speak. The weight of what I almost did hangs heavy between us. A beautiful silence envelopes us.
Suddenly, Erica stiffens. Her eyes go wide, and she turns to me with an expression of dawning horror. "Jason," she says slowly, "have we ever actually gone on a date?"
I blink, caught off guard by the abrupt change in topic. A laugh escapes me, more from surprise than humor. "I mean, yeah? I think so?" But as I rack my brain, trying to conjure up a specific memory, I come up blank. "We must have... right?"
Erica's brow furrows, her blue eyes clouding with concern. "I can't remember either," she admits, sounding uncharacteristically uncertain.
"Huh," I mutter, genuinely perplexed. How is it possible that I can't recall a single proper date with the girl I'm madly in love with? "That's... weird."
Erica's piercing blue eyes bore into mine, a mix of emotions swirling in their depths. "Jason," she says, her voice uncharacteristically nervous, "am I... a bad girlfriend?"
The question hits me like a punch to the gut. My heart constricts at the vulnerability in her tone. "What? No! Of course not!" I exclaim, reaching out to cup her face. "Erica, I love being with you. You're amazing."
She leans into my touch, but I can see the doubt lingering in her expression. A long sigh escapes her lips, warm against my palm. "You're the worst judge, you know that?" she murmurs, a wry smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "You simp for me way too hard to be objective."
I feel the smile plastered on my face. "Yeah, true." I speak in agreement that my opinion is not objective.
"It's cool," Erica says, her usual bravado creeping back into her voice. "I simp on you pretty hard, too, babe." She reaches out, her fingers trailing along my arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Suddenly, she grips my wrist, her strength both thrilling and slightly intimidating. "You know what? Screw this moping around. We're gonna go do dinner and a movie. Right now."
My eyes widen. "Wait, now?"
'On anal night? Man, that's a big loss.' I lament over the tragedy in my mind palace.
"Did I stutter?" Erica challenges me, her eyebrow arching in that way always makes my knees weak. "C'mon, pretty boy. Your badass girlfriend is taking you out some place fancy, top of the line. And wear something Sexy. Mommy wants to show off her arm candy tonight."
*****
The bustling atmosphere of The Cheesecake Factory washes over me as we settle into our booth. The clinking of cutlery and the low hum of conversation blend with the pop music playing overhead. I sink into the leather seat, inhaling the sweet scent of baked goods mingling with savory aromas.
Erica sits across from me, her piercing blue eyes narrowed as she scans the menu. Her blonde hair beautifully cascades down her back. She looks stunning in her dress, even when she's clearly annoyed.
"I can't fucking believe this." She grumbles, tossing the menu down with a dramatic flair. "I could've taken you anywhere, you know? Fancy steakhouse, that new fusion place downtown, hell, even the place on top of the Prudential. But no, you chose the fucking Cheesecake Factory."
I can't help but grin sheepishly. "What can I say? This place feels more my speed."
'She wouldn't even consider the Olive Garden when i suggested it.'
Erica's expression softens, her eyes roaming over me. A sultry smile spreads across her face, sending a shiver down my spine. "Well, I gotta admit, you look damn good in that suit. Almost makes up for your questionable taste in restaurants."
My heart skips a beat. I glance down at myself, suddenly hyper-aware of the tailored fit. "Oh, uh, thanks. I had no idea you had this made for me. When did you...?"
She leans forward, her voice dropping to a husky whisper. "Oh, darling. I had a whole bunch of suits made for you when we started dating. A woman's gotta take care of her man, right?"
My eyes widen in surprise. "A bunch? But...how? When?"
'Jesus, I had no idea. And no surprise, the thought of her secretly measuring me in my sleep excites me.'
Erica grabs my chin forcing me to look her directly into the black holes that are her eyes. "You like it, and you know how i did it. Do you really need me to even say." I melt hearing her commanding tone.
As Erica's fingers trail along my jaw, sending sparks through my skin, something catches my eye over her shoulder. My jaw drops.
"Holy shit." I mutter, blinking hard to make sure I'm not hallucinating. "Do you see that?"
At a nearby table, Louis Hill is sitting uncomfortably close to Skye and Irma. Skye's leaning in, a forkful of cheesecake hovering near Louis's mouth. Her eyes wide, as she watches him intently. It's like she's trying to will the food into his mouth through sheer desperation alone. Meanwhile, Irma's slouched in her chair, scrolling through her phone with a bored expression that screams 'I'd rather be anywhere but here.'
'What the hell kind of three-way date is this?' I think, unable to tear my eyes away from the bizarre scene.
Erica's hand suddenly grips my chin again, forcefully turning my face back to her. Her blue eyes flash dangerously, a storm brewing behind them.
"Focus on me, baby." She purrs, but there's an edge to her voice that makes me shiver. "Whatever's going on over there isn't your concern. You're here with me, remember?"
I can't help myself. My eyes keep darting back to the spectacle unfolding behind Erica. "No, seriously, Erica. Look." I insist, pointing discreetly. "It's wild."
Erica sighs dramatically, rolling her eyes before glancing over her shoulder. "Who cares about them?" she mutters, turning back to me with an exasperated expression.
But I'm transfixed. Louis is now fawning over Irma, his charm turned up to eleven as he leans in close, whispering something that makes her giggle despite her apparent disinterest. Skye, meanwhile, is laughing a bit too loudly, playing it off like she's totally fine with being ignored.
"Is he dating Skye and Irma both now?" I wonder, with my interest set to max. "Do you think he added Skye to his harem?"
The word barely leaves my lips before Erica's hand shoots out, gripping my face with surprising strength. She turns my head forcefully, her piercing blue eyes boring into mine with an intensity that makes my breath catch.
"Stop. Looking. At. Other. People." she growls, each word punctuated and dripping with possessiveness. Her fingers dig into my cheeks, not quite painful but definitely commanding my full attention. "I don't give a fuck about Louis or his dating habits. You're here with me, Jason. Focus on ME!"
As Erica's fingers dig into my cheeks, a wave of euphoria washes over me. The world around us fades away, the chatter of the restaurant becoming a distant hum. My eyes lock onto hers, those fierce blue orbs that seem to hold entire galaxies within them. A dreamy smile spreads across my face, my body relaxing into her grip as if it's the most natural thing in the world.
Erica's brow furrows in annoyance. "Do you really like being woman-handled this much?" she asks, her voice a blend of exasperation and curiosity.
I nod eagerly, still grinning like an idiot. "God, yes," I breathe, my voice barely above a whisper. "It's... intoxicating, seeing you obsess over me like this. Knowing I'm the only one you want to focus on."
She rolls her eyes, but I catch the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "You're such a psycho." She mutters, slowly releasing her grip on my face. Her hand slides down to rest on the table, fingers drumming a restless rhythm. "But if that's what you want, I expect the same level of devotion from you, got it?"
As her hand leaves my face, I feel a momentary pang of loss. But her words reignite that spark inside me. I lean forward, my eyes never leaving hers. It's as if the rest of the world has ceased to exist, there's only Erica, her piercing gaze, the slight quirk of her eyebrow as she waits for my response.
"I'm sorry," I say softly, sincerity lacing every word. "You're right. I shouldn't have gotten distracted. You're the only one that matters, Erica. The only one I want to see."
I reach out, gently taking her hand in mine. Her skin is soft, "I promise," I continue, my voice low and intense, "from now on, my eyes are only for you. My thoughts, my attention... it's all yours."
As Erica's smile widens, she says, "Let's order—" but she's suddenly cut off by a piercing scream from across the restaurant.
"It's happening! It's happening!" Irma's voice rings out with a blood-curdling scream, panic, and excitement mingling in her tone.
I struggle to keep my eyes locked on Erica's, my promise still fresh on my lips. But curiosity gnaws at me, and I can see the same conflict playing out in Erica's expression.
"Fine, fine," she mutters, rolling her eyes. "We can look. Together."
We turn in unison, just in time to see Irma leap to her feet, her wild brown curls bouncing as she starts gyrating her hips in a frenzied dance.
"It's hatching inside me!" she cries out, her voice a mix of ecstasy and disbelief. Her eyes roll back, and she lets out a moan that would make a porn star blush. The entire restaurant falls silent, all eyes fixed on the surreal scene unfolding before us.
Louis and Skye sit frozen, their mouths hanging open in shock. A waiter drops a tray of drinks, the crash of glass barely registering in the stunned silence.
Irma's movements become more frantic, her hands clutching at her stomach. "It's pecking!" she shrieks, her face contorting in horror." It's pecking my insides! It hurts! It hurts!"
Suddenly, Irma squats down, her legs spread wide as she screams, "It's coming out! Oh god, it's coming out!" Her face contorted in agony, sweat beading on her forehead as she strained and pushed.
The entire restaurant watches in horrified fascination as Irma's body convulses. With a final, ear-splitting shriek, something shoots out from between her legs, hitting the polished tile floor with a sickening wet splat.
'Does she just not wear underwear? How does this keep happening to her?'
There, in a puddle of blood and clear fluid, lies an egg-shaped mass. As we watch, stunned into silence. A tiny, head emerges, its beak opening in a silent cry. But the fall was too much. The fragile creature twitches once, twice, and then goes still.
Irma collapses to her knees, panting heavily. "MY BABY! NO!" she screams like a mother just losing her newborn. "MY BABY IS GONE! MY BABY IS GONE!" She screams, repeating the same thing over and over again.
I can't tear my eyes away from the grotesque scene. 'Strangely it feels like my life is slowly normalizing shit like this.'
Erica's hand grips my wrist with the fervor of someone who just learned how to jerk it. I turn to find her face pale, her blue eyes wide with a mix of disgust and disbelief. Without a word, she stands, dragging me up with her.
"We're leaving," she hisses through clenched teeth. "And you are never, ever allowed to choose the restaurant again."
"I just don't see how that could be your takeaway here. This is a net positive." I argue as she pulls me along.