SHOUTOUTS TO MY FAITHFUL READERS:
kittkattbar - I can't make any promises, but for now, it's smooth sailing for Poap.
lil_chica007 - Yes, yes. Fighting that leads to hardcore making out is the best kind of fighting there is. haha.
x_slowdown - Turkeys are MUCH uglier than hens. They have that flap of weird skin hanging off their necks. -shudders-
everyone else still reading this - THANK YOU from the bottom of my digital heart for reading up to this point. You're the reason I keep updating.
Now onto the story...
38: h a p p y t o g e t h e r
Squeak, shuffling of paper, slap.
My ears perked up at the familiar sound of the mail coming in. I looked out the window just in time to see the mailman walking to the neighbor’s house.
“What’s up, Hem?” Soap asked, sitting on the couch. I scratched at the front door and looked back at her expectantly. “Mail here?” I nodded and wagged my tail in response.
She got up and patted my head before slipping her shoes on.
“C’mon, let’s go get it.”
Eagerly, I followed her outside. While she emptied the mailbox, I messily rolled around in the daffodils and tulips in the front lawn. What can I say? It’s a dog thing.
For a while, she waited on the steps, just watching and chuckling as I made a mess of the flower beds. “If your dad asks, don’t tell him I let you smush the flowers.”
I spent a few more minutes playing on the lawn before shaking the dirt off myself. Sophie opened the front door, then set the pile of mail onto the coffee table. After sorting through the newspaper, she set the Petsmart ads on the cushion next to her. I jumped up and took a seat on her lap, browsing through squeaky toys while she flipped through the latest issue of Nylon. It was one our Hem/Soap bonding activities.
After a few minutes of looking through the dog food section, nothing caught my eye. I nudged the papers away, then carefully repositioned myself of Sophie’s lap.
She rubbed the back of my ears as I shifted my attention to what she was reading. Apparently there was a debate between wearing leggings and skinny jeans.
“Yeah, I know. It’s kind of silly,” she said, turning the page. With a chuckle she shook her head. There was a big picture of Pete looking thoughtful. Next to it was the caption: Emo Is The New Black. I barked and put my paw over his face. Sure, he’s my dad, but his face can get kind of annoying after a while.
“Honey, I’m home!” Pete exclaimed, walking through the front door.
“Since when are you such a cheese ball?” I asked. He shot me a questioning look as he unzipped his hoody.
“Sophie knows that I’m just a short guy with a big heart and an even bigger ego,” I quoted from the magazine. “We were friends before the fame, the band, the eyeliner and tight jeans… Way before Patrick started wearing hats. For the past 6 months she’s been the first person I see in the morning and the last person I see at night, and that’s something I wouldn’t mind getting used to.”
“Oh, that,” he said chuckling.
“And here I was, thinking that you’d dodge relationship questions like the plague,” I said, setting the magazine down.
“Haven’t you heard?” he asked, taking a seat next to Hemmy and I. “Being honest with interviewers is the new trend.” A smile tugged at my lips as he wrapped an arm around me.
“So what have you been up to all day?” I asked.
“Oh, this and that. Mostly making sure that Panic’s getting work done in the studio.”
“How’s progress on that?”
“Slow. They scrapped a whole album because they didn’t like the final product. Now they’re starting over from scratch.”
“A whole album? Was it that bad?”
“Not at all, but they didn’t like where the music was going. Brendon and Ryan want to give the synths a break. They mentioned something about the Beatles…”
“Interesting,” I replied, trying to imagine a ‘new and improved’ Panic. It was hard to imagine.
“That’s what I said.”
“Anyways, what have you and Hem been up to?”
“Not much. Went on a walk, watched some TV, read about you in a magazine. Same old, same old.”
Pete smiled, then cupping my face in his hand, pulled me into a kiss. I’m not sure what triggered this sudden display of affection, but I wasn’t complaining. Hemmy seemed to get the hint and scampered off to the kitchen. My hands massaged the back of his neck while his were tangled in my hair.
“Whoa,” I said, as we surfaced for air. “Where’d that come from?”
“I honestly don’t know,” he replied, chuckling.
“Well, do you think you have any left?” I asked, grinning. He laughed in response, then tossed me over his shoulder.
Within seconds I found myself being whisked upstairs and into the bedroom.
While Pete and Sophie did their thing upstairs, I wandered around, looking for something to pass the time. My squeaky toys had quickly lost their appeal, so I snooped around in the kitchen for something new to play with.
The first cupboard had various sizes of Tupperware.
The second had dog food. Feeling a bit hungry, I grabbed the bag of Beggin’ Strips and pulled a few of them out before proceeding on my quest to find a new toy.
The third one had pots and pans that clattered to the floor once I opened it. I flinched as the noise reverberated throughout the room. While I tried pushing the mess back into the cupboard, a small box tumbled out from underneath the skillet. Upon further inspection, I saw that it was dark blue, about the size of my paw. Curious, I tried opening it, but it was no use.
Gah, I wish I had thumbs…
Pete came in a few seconds later, out of breath with only his boxers on.
“Aww, Hem. Now was not the time to look for new toys,” he said, commenting on the mess I’d made. “You interrupted a very special moment between me and Soap.” As I whimpered an apology, he took note of the box in front of me. Squatting down to my level, he picked it up.
“I see that you’ve found my present for Sophie,” he said, dusting it off. I looked up at him with questioning eyes. He got my message and flipped the tiny container open. Inside was a really sparkly ring. There was one big clear stone in the middle with smaller ones to the left and right of it. I excitedly started barking. If my understanding of movies served me correctly, the ring meant that Pete was gonna ask Sophie to marry him.
“Pete, is everything okay?” Soap called as she came down the stairs.
“Yeah, babe. Hemmy was just looking for something to play with,” he quickly replied, shutting the ring box and placing it into one of the higher cupboards, behind the baking soda and flour.
Soap walked in, hair askew, wearing a yellow robe. With a chuckle, she surveyed the pots and pans scattered across the tile floor.
“Hem probably learned his restlessness from you, Pete,” she chuckled, leaning down to pet me.
“Hey, don’t pin this on me! He’s the one that made the mess,” he defended.
“But you are the one who stuffed the cupboard like that,” she countered, neatly stacking the pots inside of each other. Pete opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out.
“See?” Sophie smirked at his lack of words while he took the stack of pots and placed them back inside.
“Sometimes I think you love Hemmy more than me,” he pouted.
“Aww, you know that isn’t true,” she said, wrapping her arms around his waist. “I love you both equally.”
“Prove it,” he said as she pressed her forehead against his. Smiling, she tilted her chin up so that their lips met. At first, he grudgingly accepted the peace offering, but within seconds he was kissing her back.
I took this as my cue to leave.
“Jeez,” I thought, walking upstairs. “And they think I’m restless…”
Pete has a ring?!
RATE, REVIEW, and or AIM me @ Disast3rous and you'll find out what happens next.
Yeah, i'm evil like that.
-insert diabolical laugh here-