Status: in progress <3
Flips Flops and Combat Boots
01
"Baby? I'm home," I called as I walked in the door, shrugging out of my flour-covered jacket. It was unbearably cold this November. Snow flurries were already starting to fall every now and then, a rarity in the grand state of Arkansas at this time of year. Most of our snow came in February, and even then, it was more of an ice storm than anything else.
"In here," came the reply from the bathroom.
I smiled softly as I pulled my boots off and placed them behind the door as well. Pushing back the hanging beads that Connor had placed over the bedroom door, I walked through and met up with him as he was coming out of the bathroom. He swiftly kissed my lips, and then asked how my day at work was. I had only been working at the pizza place for a few months, as a delivery driver. I pretty much hated it, though the people that I worked with weren't half bad. It was just a shitty job, and I knew that I was better than that. Still, it paid the bills, which was all that I could really ask for, considering I was only twenty years old, and still trying to get through college.
"It was work," I replied, rolling my eyes as I walked over to the closet to grab something a bit more comfy. "AAGH!" I screamed, as two people jumped out of it, yelling at me. My heart pounded hard in my chest as the three other people in the room started laughing. I turned, my hand over my chest, and glared at Connor. It had been his stupid idea to start a prank war between the two of us, even though I hated things like surprises, and I was constantly a nervous wreck, wondering what I was going to come home to find.
"Nycole, this is Freed and his girlfriend Ethel. Did they scare you?" Connor asked, grinning mischieviously.
"I screamed, didn't I?" I asked, sticking my tongue out at him, having already forgiven him. It was kind of hard not to. He was my dream guy, handsome, smart, and just all around nice. Staying mad at him was just not an option. "It's nice to meet you guys," I said to the other two.
"Nice to meet you, too," they replied. Freed hooked an arm around Ethel's shoulders, turning to lead everyone out of the bedroom so that I could change. "There's a beer in the fridge for you when you are done doing...whatever," he said, smiling.
I nodded and turned back to my mission: pajamas. I grabbed some pink and red flannel pants, and a red tanktop. I pulled them on, and then met everyone else in the kitchen. They were all standing around with beers in their hands, talking about something that had happened at drill. Connor was in the National Guard, and I took it that that was how he knew Freed. What kind of name was that, anyways? Shaking my head slightly, I opened the fridge and pulled out the Miller Light that was in there, popped the top, and then perched myself on the counter.
"So are you two in the same unit?" I asked, taking a sip.
Freed shook his head. "Nah, we were deployed together, in Iraq," he said simply. I nodded once more as I looked over at him, finally taking him in. He was handsome, with dark skin, dark brown hair that was cropped short, and the deepest brown eyes I had ever seen. Full lips were placed just below a slightly pointed nose that appeared to have been broken at least once. He looked a bit older than Connor myself, but I wouldn't have placed him a day over twenty-five. He was the exact opposite of Connor, with his pale, reddish skin, blue eyes, and blonde hair. I glanced over at Ethel now, who was quietly opening a pack of cigarettes next to him. To be honest, she looked more like a crackwhore than anything. And I meant that quite literally. Her body was rail thin, the bones in her wrist and arm jutting out. Her face was gaunt, the skin seeming like it was pulled too tight across it. Her blonde hair was flat and dull around her face. I imagined she must've been pretty at some point, to be with someone like Freed, but I couldn't see it at that moment.
Not that I was drop dead gorgeous, either. I was half Italian, and you could see it in some of my features, such as my dark brown hair, and nose that was a bit too large for my face. One of my teeth stuck out from the rest, a feature that caused me to smile with closed lips nearly all of the time. I wasn't tan, but I wasn't pale either. My best feature, besides my shortness, were my eyes, which were a delightful mix of green, brown, and gold.
"I'm guessing that Freed is your last name," I said, flicking my eyes back over to my boyfriend's good friend, "So what's your first name?"
"Anthony. But you can call me Tony."
"In here," came the reply from the bathroom.
I smiled softly as I pulled my boots off and placed them behind the door as well. Pushing back the hanging beads that Connor had placed over the bedroom door, I walked through and met up with him as he was coming out of the bathroom. He swiftly kissed my lips, and then asked how my day at work was. I had only been working at the pizza place for a few months, as a delivery driver. I pretty much hated it, though the people that I worked with weren't half bad. It was just a shitty job, and I knew that I was better than that. Still, it paid the bills, which was all that I could really ask for, considering I was only twenty years old, and still trying to get through college.
"It was work," I replied, rolling my eyes as I walked over to the closet to grab something a bit more comfy. "AAGH!" I screamed, as two people jumped out of it, yelling at me. My heart pounded hard in my chest as the three other people in the room started laughing. I turned, my hand over my chest, and glared at Connor. It had been his stupid idea to start a prank war between the two of us, even though I hated things like surprises, and I was constantly a nervous wreck, wondering what I was going to come home to find.
"Nycole, this is Freed and his girlfriend Ethel. Did they scare you?" Connor asked, grinning mischieviously.
"I screamed, didn't I?" I asked, sticking my tongue out at him, having already forgiven him. It was kind of hard not to. He was my dream guy, handsome, smart, and just all around nice. Staying mad at him was just not an option. "It's nice to meet you guys," I said to the other two.
"Nice to meet you, too," they replied. Freed hooked an arm around Ethel's shoulders, turning to lead everyone out of the bedroom so that I could change. "There's a beer in the fridge for you when you are done doing...whatever," he said, smiling.
I nodded and turned back to my mission: pajamas. I grabbed some pink and red flannel pants, and a red tanktop. I pulled them on, and then met everyone else in the kitchen. They were all standing around with beers in their hands, talking about something that had happened at drill. Connor was in the National Guard, and I took it that that was how he knew Freed. What kind of name was that, anyways? Shaking my head slightly, I opened the fridge and pulled out the Miller Light that was in there, popped the top, and then perched myself on the counter.
"So are you two in the same unit?" I asked, taking a sip.
Freed shook his head. "Nah, we were deployed together, in Iraq," he said simply. I nodded once more as I looked over at him, finally taking him in. He was handsome, with dark skin, dark brown hair that was cropped short, and the deepest brown eyes I had ever seen. Full lips were placed just below a slightly pointed nose that appeared to have been broken at least once. He looked a bit older than Connor myself, but I wouldn't have placed him a day over twenty-five. He was the exact opposite of Connor, with his pale, reddish skin, blue eyes, and blonde hair. I glanced over at Ethel now, who was quietly opening a pack of cigarettes next to him. To be honest, she looked more like a crackwhore than anything. And I meant that quite literally. Her body was rail thin, the bones in her wrist and arm jutting out. Her face was gaunt, the skin seeming like it was pulled too tight across it. Her blonde hair was flat and dull around her face. I imagined she must've been pretty at some point, to be with someone like Freed, but I couldn't see it at that moment.
Not that I was drop dead gorgeous, either. I was half Italian, and you could see it in some of my features, such as my dark brown hair, and nose that was a bit too large for my face. One of my teeth stuck out from the rest, a feature that caused me to smile with closed lips nearly all of the time. I wasn't tan, but I wasn't pale either. My best feature, besides my shortness, were my eyes, which were a delightful mix of green, brown, and gold.
"I'm guessing that Freed is your last name," I said, flicking my eyes back over to my boyfriend's good friend, "So what's your first name?"
"Anthony. But you can call me Tony."
♠ ♠ ♠
This is mostly based on a true story. Some things have been changed, but the general gist of it are the same. I'm writing it to release a lot of pent-up emotions, so it'll probably be updated frequently. :)Comments are <3