Bottom of the Blackest Hole

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!” I screeched in delight at the cab window as we passed another strange building. Paris was by far the most amazing, beautiful city I had ever been to. Sorry New York.

Josh remained unfazed by the pretty lights and buildings. “Oh!” I yelled, “Look! It’s the Eiffel Tower!” I let out a gasp, “Oh my g-”

“I swear, if you say ‘oh my god’ once more I will…cut your hair,” Josh threatened. I looked at him and pouted.

“Party pooper,” I said glumly. However, he didn’t exactly ruin the moment. I was too happy for that. I silently thanked Sofia for this place as our honeymoon. I guess this marriage kind of had its up.

The cab suddenly stopped. I glanced at the tall building next to me. We were at the hotel. I didn’t wait for the valet to open the door for me. I snatched it open quickly and skidded out. My eyes were wide in awe.

“Oh my god!” I yelled out. Josh glared at me in annoyance but I ignored him. He paid the driver and followed as someone took our bags. He didn’t go to the check-in counter; we just walked to the elevator.

“Good night, Mister and Missus Anderson,” the man said before walking out of the room.

“This isn’t your first time here is it?” I asked as I took in the suite.

“No,” he said curtly. I nodded.

“So, you always sleep in the honeymoon suite?”

He rolled his eyes. “I have my room on a different floor. Sofia must’ve paid for this one instead.”

“It’s amazing.” I walked to a room to find a king sized canopy bed. Looking around casually I suddenly ran and jumped on the bed. I started chuckling to myself as I snuggled in the soft sheets.

Josh threw my luggage on the bed. It missed my foot by an inch. I sat up and opened it to unpack.

“These…these aren’t mine,” I said in disgust as I held onto the piece of clothing, if you can call it that. It was more like a string. Then I realized it was lingerie. Ugh.

I started taking out the clothes from the bag. These were definitely not mine. How did-? Sofia, I thought angrily. I dug deeper in and found that some of them were mine; jeans, jackets, shirts, shoes, undergarments. Weirdly, I couldn’t find my checkered pajamas. Or my hot pink pajama pants. Or my black tank top.

“Damn. I’d like to see you in these,” Josh remarked huskily as he held the lacy red thong in front of him.

“Pig,” I stated, “And those are not mine. I think Sofia did this. Meanie,” I mumbled.

He ignored me and picked up a black, decorated, lacy bra, “Or these,” he breathed. Now that was mine. But I wasn’t going to tell him that.

And finally, he looked up to meet my eyes. “Are you gonna wear ‘em?”

“No!” I huffed angrily. He only shrugged before stalking into the bathroom to shower. I sorted through the clothes and put the ones that weren’t mine in a pile. It wasn’t so bad. Most of my clothes were still here. I started hanging them up on my side of the closet. When I was done, I stuffed the R-rated clothing back in my bag.

Josh came out a couple of minutes later. He was in blue plaid pajama pants and a white tank top. His hair was beaded with droplets of water. He walked past me to unpack his stuff. I strolled past him and went to take a quick shower.

I came out ten minutes later with a white towel wrapped around me. Then I realized I had nothing to wear when I sleep. I stalked off to my now husband as he switched through the channels on the bed.

“Can I-” I began.

“No.”

“You didn’t even know what I was going to ask for!”

He looked at me. I clutched my towel tighter around myself as his eyes ran over my half naked, wet body.

“You were going to ask to borrow one of my shirts.” He said flatly, before turning away to watch TV.

“No,” I lied, “I was going to ask if…um…,” he waited patiently. “Fine! I want to borrow your shirt,” I caved in.

He smirked, “Nope.”

“But why?” I whined.

“Because. That’s why.”

“Please?” I begged. Yes. I was begging. He shook his head, his eyes not leaving the screen.

“Come on,” I tried again. He ignored me now. I made a strange noise at the back of my throat before stalking off to the closet.

I didn’t care if he said no. I was going to wear one of this shirt. That was that. I slipped a grey one on. It went past to my mid-thighs. I slipped onto my shorts but they weren’t visible under the shirt.

I walked out triumphantly. He glanced at me then his eyes popped out.

“Hey!” He yelled. I stuck my tongue out at him before turning off all the lights and slipping in under the cover. The only noise and light was from the television.

“I thought I told you not to wear my shirt!”

“Well, I guess it’s a good thing then that I don’t listen,” and with that final statement, I turned over and dozed off.

--

Snore. Tickle. Giggle.
Snore. Tickle. Giggle.
Snore. Tick-

I opened my eyes tiredly. Something was obviously tickling me. I craned my neck to the source of the snoring and found no other than Josh. I was tucked under his chin. When he breathes out, his breath would hit my neck, tickling it. That was probably why I was giggling.

I carefully lifted his arm from around me and sat up. I yawned and stretched before getting off the bed and crawling outside. Not literally.

“Uh…,” I said intelligently as a Spanish woman dusted the shelves. She was humming a happy song. When she heard me, she turned around and smiled.

“Hi,” I greeted and waved.

“Hello,” her voice was laced with a thick accent. She looked to be around in the mid-forties. Her hair was in a tight bun and you could see that she was graying. She wore a dark blue button up shirt with a black skirt.

“So, uh, need help cleaning?” I asked awkwardly.

“Huh? Oh no! I clean only. Almost done. I’ll be out of your way soon, Miss.” She said politely.

“No. I mean, yes. I mean, no. You’re not in the way. Um…are you Josh’s maid or something?”

“Yes. I work in the hotel, but I clean Mister Anderson’s room all the time when he’s here.”

“Right,” I stated. She smiled once more, glanced over me, then her grinned widened. I looked down. I was wearing Josh’s shirt. I looked back up at her but she was already dusting away.

“It’s not what it looks like,” I said out of the blue. But somehow I just had to explain my clothing arrangement.

She looked up at me with a thick eyebrow raised, “What I meant to say was, it’s not what you think. None of my pajamas were…suitable so I asked to borrow his shirt.”

She nodded her head slowly, “Of course,” she said amusedly.

“We didn’t do anything. At all. Okay, so we just hugged while we were asleep. But that’s it. Nothing else. I would never do anything with Josh,” I rant, “Well, I did something. But that was a long time ago. But now? Nothing. We’re not doing any…activities and stuff.”

She smiled, clearly she thought this situation was hilarious, “Of course,” she repeated.

“Sorry. You didn’t really sound convinced, that’s all.” She repeated her statement before turning back to work.

Then, I don’t know how or why, but Josh walked out of the room. Shirtless. Great. Now I’m pretty sure she’s convinced.

I watched his muscles flex as he stretched his arms. I didn’t know he had six packs…

“Like what you’re seeing?” Josh smirked in glory. I rolled my eyes.

“I’ve seen better,” I lied. Then I walked off into a mini kitchen to get something to drink.

“Oh really?” he asked as he sauntered in. “According to your best friend, Courtney, she said that I was the only man who ever saw you naked. I was the only man you ever saw naked. And I was the only man that you lost your…virginity to?”

I started choking on the orange juice that I was drinking. Traitor, I thought wryly.

“She…she told you all that?” I asked nervously. He smirked for an answer.

Traitor, traitor, traitor, traitor!

I slammed the orange juice glass down before walking grudgingly to the bathroom.

--

[Josh]

He couldn’t believe it.

It was only a guess too!

She was a virgin?! This was just too funny! He only thought to say that to annoy or provoke her. Josh didn’t think that it was actually true. She didn’t confirm it, but the look on her face when she cowardly walked away said it all.

He grinned maniacally as he washed her glass. He couldn’t believe that he was actually the first man she saw naked and vice versa! Most of all, he couldn’t believe that he was the one that popped her cherry!

“Hey Maria,” he said as he walked past the Spanish woman to the bedroom.

It all made it so surreal. Him! Somehow, it made him feel…good that he was the only man that did those stuff to her.

And he’ll be the only man.

He ignored that piece of thought. Of course, he thought, who’d want to do her?

I would.

And again, he ignored that voice.

[/Josh]