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"I would like my husband back."
"I don't know what you're talking about. He isn't here."
"Danielle, I'm not stupid."
"You certainly aren't smart either."
A moment or two of silence on the other side of the phone. It was incredibly tense.
"Where would he be then?"
"He's your husband. Shouldn't you know?"
Bloberta pinched the bridge of her nose in annoyance. Meanwhile, Danielle had a hand over Clay's mouth.
"So your telling me, that you have no idea where Clay is?"
"Yes."
"Yes you did know where he is?"
"No."
"You sure?"
"Yes."
"Are you lying to me Danielle?"
"No."
Clay shot Danielle a look of annoyance. In return, Danielle gestured to a cabinet in the kitchen.
"Listen. I know you two have something going on. I'm not blind and I'm certainly not deaf." Clay must've heard this in the kitchen because he started choking on his own spit. He covered his own mouth.
"Was that my husband?"
"What noooo... that was me. Water went down my throat wrong- whoops." Danielle did a pathetic little cough noise into the phone.
"...riiigghhhtttt." There was no possibility in any shape, way, or form she fell for that.
He cleared his throat before speaking, "Yeah. I swear they're making ice cubes bigger these days." Clay looked up at Danielle in disappointment at the excuse before shaking his head slightly. He climbed on the counter to get to the cupboard. Bloberta was completely silent on the other end.
"What?"
"What?"
"...Did you say... ice cubes are getting bigger?"
"...Why would I say such an absurd thing?"
"You two really are made for each other." Bloberta hung up the phone before Danielle could get another word in. Danielle didn't have a response to what she said. But still, he would've liked the last word.
He put the phone back on the hook. He sighed and looked back at Clay.
"Why are you on my counters?" Danielle asked, irritated.
"Cupboard was all the way up here." The brunette responded blankly he got down with the bottle of whiskey. Danielle just stared at him for a minute before looking back down at the phone.
"Clay?"
"Yes?"
"If we were ever to actually...be together-" Clay looked up, horrified. "-We wouldn't be able to be in Moralton. Would we?" The blond looked up from the phone. He lifted his eyes to the man in the kitchen who was so determined to get drunk so whatever he'd say or do next, he wouldn't be held accountable for. That stung a little.
"Ask me that question in about ehhh-" Clay downed another shot. "-I'd say three-ish minutes? No more than five." And another down the hatch.
"Can you only think about us being together when you're drunk?"
"Heyyyy-" He almost sounded offended. "-I hadn't had a drink when I came here today." Danielle stayed quiet. More so glaring at him. There was a few seconds of silence as Clay pulled the glass away from his lips. He didn't know what, but by the way Danielle was glaring him, he knew he said something wrong.
Clay sighed. "I mean..." He rattled the ice cubes in his glass. "...I also think about you when I'm alone...and with others," Danielle raised a brow. "I think about you when I'm bored or when I need to get something done." He looked up at Danielle. Only now realizing what he said.
"Oh really?" Danielle walked to the island directly across from Clay.
"Perhaps." He looked back down at the bottle in front of him.
Danielle leaned forward. His elbows placed on the Island. "If you said yes that'd mean a lot more than perhaps."
Clay glanced up at Danielle before looking back down. "You got your compliments from me for the day. Don't push it." He sounded more scared than he would've liked.
Danielle frowned. "Cmon Clay. One more compliment?" Clay looked up at him and sighed.
"You have beautiful eyes." Unfortunately, with the sound of the ice being covered with alcohol and how fast Clay had said it, he didn't catch what was said.
"What?"
"You're not unbearable." He put the glass to his lips. Danielle just blinked at Clay. He was absolutely awful. Both of them. Both being unable to see their own faults. Both being absolute scum. Those awful qualities would only be seen with rose colored glasses to each other.
"Clay."
"Yah?" He was about to down another glass. However, Danielle had put his hand over the top. Clay furrowed his brows and looked up at him.
"Do you love me back?"
"Don't do this."
"Can I ask why?"
"I'm on my seventh shot of whiskey."
"You're always on your seventh shot."
"If you take your hand off I'll make it eight."
There was a few seconds of silence. Danielle had taken the shot glass from Clay and downed it himself. Clay had sighed and put his elbows on the island. He was so much closer than before. Closer to Danielle. Closer to rationalizing. Closer to pushing away again. He took a moment to think before speaking.
"If it means anything...I'm really sorry."
"Why should I care?"
"Because I care about you."
Danielle scoffed and rolled his eyes. Clay was so inconvenient to love. The constant flip flopping. For Christ's sake he was married! Well neither of them cared for that part. But still.
"I..." Clay swallowed. His throat felt so dry all of a sudden. He moved his hand towards Danielle's. "...I am not sure what I'm doing with what we have. I know how I feel but I'm not ready to feel in it's full feeling-ness." Danielle raised a brow and looked at him with curiosity. "I don't know how to accept what I feel." Clay groaned and rested his cheek on the palm of his hand. "But I know it's there." He paused again. "And maybe in any other circumstance, I'd know how to deal with it." Danielle hummed slightly before putting his hand over Clay's.
"Thanks."
"...yeah"
A few moments of awkward silence for Clay. A few moments of a warm humming in Danielle's chest. A few moments.
"Do you feel like watching something?"
"Yes."
"Alright."
Danielle took Clay's hand in his and they walked to the couch together. Danielle switched the TV on. Clay would listen with his head in Danielle's lap as the blond explained the sport that was playing. And yet, as much fun as he was having, he knew Clay would remember none of it tomorrow.