tell_a_tale_mod (tell_a_tale_mod) wrote in tell_a_tale, @ 2007-09-28 23:39:00 |
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Original poster: princessvannah
Who: Bryant (The Light Princess' Prince) and Savannah (The Light Princess)
What: Bryant coming home to a scantly clad Savannah
Where: their apartment
When: Thursday, September 27, 2007 - evening
Rating: PG-13ish
Status: Narrative | Complete ... unless Lena really wants a thread
To the outside eye, Savannah and Bryant would be the most dysfunctional could ever imaginable. They fought over the stupidest things. She called off their wedding almost weekly. He called her a bitch. She called him an ass. Bryant rarely made it a full month without spending, at least, one night in the guest room. How could they possibly love one another? How could the even consider marriage, when they couldn't keep their relationship together for more than five minutes at a time?
Well, that was easy if you were Bryant or Savannah. Truthfully, the got off on fighting.
He'd do something stupid (or not so stupid... that really depends on perspective), she'd pout, bitch and then boot him from their bedroom. He'd spend a night, sometimes two, in the guest room... then, they'd work it out. A random encounter in the kitchen, a slight brush as they both tried to inch through a door frame, and in that tiny moment, something would click and before either of them could explain what had happened, they'd be half naked and pressed against some wall in their apartment.
She was bitchy, spoiled, slightly insane at times but Bryant happened to be turned on by these things. Bryant was cocky, rude, sometimes self-absorbed but Savannah couldn't think of anything sexier. It wasn't even remotely normal but... it worked for them.
This week had been... one of their weeks. Bryant had taken her to play miniature golf and then he'd had the nerve to beat her at it.
He knew that Savannah was a poor poor looser but, apparently, it hurt his pride to let her win every single time, every single game they ever played. Sometimes, he wanted to win... was that so hard to imagine? It was if you were Savannah White. Really, was it so hard to let her win?
One well played game of golf with gnomes and a moving windmill and Bryant had found himself standing outside of their locked bedroom door. Things had gone downhill from there. Savannah had (in his eyes) started flirting with some random guy, he'd gotten jealous and spent the night in some bar getting insanely drunk. Some where in all the mess, she'd gotten tired of fighting and she had been really ready to get on with the making up portion of their argument.
Unfortunately, a drunk Bryant was a sleeping Bryant and they'd done nothing more than kiss, cuddle and sleep. She hadn't minded but she was still very ready to officially make up with him.
Which is why she was currently wearing this as she sat in his office chair with a large glass of wine in one hand and her black stiletto heels crossed delicately on top of his desk.
It was past time for them to make up. What was the point of fighting if they didn't find their release in the end?