Amy's HouseMature


Amy swings open the front door of her house and belly-flops down onto her couch. I follow her in, closing the door behind me and looking around. 

"Bienvenido a la casa de Evans," she tells me, her voice muffled from burying her face into the couch. I grin at her, knowing she's flaunting a small bit of the Spanish she knows.

"Nice place," I say, my eyes wandering from the stone fireplace in the middle of the room to the artwork on the walls of animals to the couch where she lies.

There's a rustling noise behind me. I'm about to turn around when Strikey appears out from behind a couch and tackles my shoelaces. I hate when he does this; I can tell him to stay home and wait, I'll leave, and then when I get somewhere, he'll just appear out of nowhere.

"Oi, Strikey. What am I going to do with you?" I ask him, lifting him off the ground and holding him tightly in my arms.

"Strikey's here?" Amy asked, finally sitting up like a normal person and watching me.

I nod, my face getting hot with embarrassment. I keep forgetting that I probably look weird to her right now. She doesn't seem to be disturbed at all by this, though. Instead she pats the couch cushion next to her, inviting me to sit down next to her.

Gratefully, I hurry across the room and sit down next to her.

"Wanna watch TV?" She offers, stretching to reach for the remote.

"No. I have something else in mind," I say, gently pushing her hand back, away from the remote.

She gives me a surprised look. "Huh?"

Leaning towards her, I allow my lips to meet with hers. 

The End

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