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Once upon a time.
A blond and his redhead man met at the altar. And she became his bride as he became her groom.
Their first wedding gift? A puppy they decided to name as Champ, hoping for it to bring them good luck.
Laughter and joyful smiles, cherish the new member of their family, the newly married couple is quickly directed to cut the cake.
On top of it, two sugar figure resembling the couple. They holded hands, fondly looking at the other and cut down a piece of cake.
Dude is nice about it, a tiny bit of cream on her nose, she giggle, giving him a chunck of cake that he eagerly ate, some of it ended on his chin before she ate some herself.
Always loved the sweets, his Dear was glowing.
That white snowy dress, hair up high on a blond bun as she laughed with someone because Champ had licked some frosting off the floor.
Dude couldn't feel more happy, his nervous smile, he's so excited. His Dear is now his wife.
Together forever, until death due them apart.
. . .
Their honeymoon was a daze, some stuff to drink here, something to eat here and finally peace, just the two of them and little Champ.
The TV is on as they cuddle, his shirt open, the tie all messy, socks on, no pants. She basically is on the same vibe and mood.
No skirt on, her blue panties, the messy bun, only using that type of cosert or something, the upper part of her dress. Dude didn't asked the name, only said " you look amazing, My Dear "
Dear smile was soft, probably because it was already late as the watched this boring soap opera together.
" you do too, Dude " she leaned closer, resting her head against his chest. Her perfume like heaven.
That tart and sweet, slightly citric, something he calls now home. Dude hopes it's the same way for her.
Her hand caressing his hair, as they doze off on the couch.
The morning sun hits them. But they just don't want to get up.
Champ little bark is the only thing that make them open their eyes. The little pup on top of dude, excited to see them awake.
" Well... Seems like it's time for some breakfast "She,her voice like velvet,with that soreness from waking up recently.
Dear pinched lightly Dude's cheek and kissed it making dude turn all reddish and sheepishly giggled. " hehe, I'll make some right now Dear! "
Clumsy but lovingly, Dude made breakfast for all of them. Even making some that Champ could eat for today before buying some dog food.
Dear watched, like if Dude was the jackpot itself. The love in her eyes.
As a tender lovely ashy blue watched over him. They had their breakfast together with the background noise of happy Champ munching it's food.
That's their honeymoon. Between lovely nights in a hotel, just for them and their four legged companion.
At night, when all the bags are done, they look each other, together in the mirror of the hall, Champ sleeping in his kennel that weight on Dude hand. Dear hums as her fingers play with his hair.
Theres this lingering smell of coconut cream and caramel, her make up, his shaving cream.
Light perfume, matching shirts.
. . .
Their daily routine revolts around, working, cleaning, movie night. Dude bringing something nice to eat to diner.
When family cook out happened, she makes the talking, dude is awkward, just well, dude, they don't pay attention to him, except his wife and maybe his sister, mother and father in law.
He stays near, usually silent unless spoken to, in the other side, Dear talks a lot, about their plans, about dude's ideas, what he and her are doing for work.
Dude sometimes talks, enough to correct or change a fact,sometimes to add to what she said. Dear nods.
One drink or two, never more than four or six.
Until dude's loses his job because they needed to cut costs and personal.
Less to say, his family in law laughed a bit at his misery, not out of malice or so he wanted to think, his Dear stood up and cut their chat before leaving.
Dude's family didn't help much beside giving them a couple of bucks to survive the next 3 months.
Dear stays by his side, caressing his back as Dude is trying to not burst out crying, he'd been busting his ass on that damn company, he was supposed to get a promotion.
To get more money, something. Now he felt useless on her arms.
When she's consoling him, Dude can't help but gaze at her chest, the tattoo with his name on it. He holds onto her like dear life, to the sight engraved on her skin with ink.
" come on Dude, don't cry now... Those fuckers don't know shit"Her words, crude, yet full of worry and care.
He nods, cleaning his face with his shirt before sniffling. " thanks... I needed to hear that "
The humorous undertone makes things feel easier.
That night, they snuggle together in bed, Champ sleeping between their leg.
Dude thank her again, kiss on her forehead and a big hug as they doze off into dreamland.
In the morning, Dear went to work, something easy at a local pancake house or something, she's a waitress at the place.
After she went out, without breakfast, dude felt bad that he didn't woke up early to make up for the lost of his job.
He didn't wanted to depend on her like this, not even in the monetary way.
As her husband, Dude knows he should provide and take care of her.
In his loneliness, Champ stay by his side, as he drank a beer knowing that he had at least left the dishes and clothes done.
The puppy jumped next to him, liking his face and making him both annoyed and happy, that ticklish bubbly annoying feeling.
It's funny, nagging, yet so cute. Dude can't really get angry enough to totally pull Champ away.
He stayed as quiet as possible, didn't yell, just gushing over the pup while also cringing at the sticky face. Smelling like ground coffee.
Yeah, he didn't got too mad. " Champ! Stop, it tickles "
Maybe, this Monday wasn't that bad.
The bottles comes just to shut the thirst down, to keep the mind busy. Is a good Monday he tells himself.
His mind tells him, he should cook or something. That his Dear will come hungry and tired, he feels the bubbling anxiety in his stomach.
He's not the best cook. What if he burns it and make her even madder? Maybe order take out.
It's cheaper and Dear love pizza too, double cheese and with caramelized onions, that's her favorite. Dude prefers the traditional flavor but he doesn't mind having some of her pizza.
This brings fond memories.
" what do you think Champ?... Are we eating pizza tonight? "
Wagging his little tail the pup barks excited. Dude pets his little head before walking away from where he was drinking.
Two packs, now he feels a bit ashame.
When Dear arrived food is already serve, warm pizza and some soda. She doesn't seem mad.
The look on her eyes, not pity, care, something like watching a injured bird. Dude feels self-conscious.
He probably looks like a kicked puppy.
In any case, she says hi to Champ before taking her hells off and sitting next to Dude. " wanna watch TV with me? "
Dude nods giving her a kiss. " how was your day? "
" eh, dumb people as always... But am glad I arrived, I wanted to see you "
" I missed you too "
" uuhh cornyy "
" Dear! "
She laughed at their convo, taking a slide of pizza and munching on it as she stood up again ready to take a sit. Dude giggled softly.
A smirk appears on his face, what a little intelligent creature is his wife. He can't even get mad at how she deliberately made him move the two pizza boxes and the soda to the sofa.
The light of the tv, the warm pizza, her weight next to his. Champ resting under their feet.
Just the two of them and Champ in this room. Together.
As he took a deep breath he allowed himself to relax, he didn't thought he was so tense.
. . .
If he knew, if he only knew why.
Every interview felt like humiliation.
Sometimes he lacked voice, sometimes they straight up thought he was weird, then they went " oh you're at this age range! NAAAAH we don't want to pay when you have a baby ".
Dude felt that this was sucking the life out off him. If he was under qualify then in another place he was over qualify. He cried many times.
Before and after interviews. After a long day of handing curriculums, just arriving home and watching his Dear right of the shower.
As her eyes lingered on him, this was supposed to be their year, this was supposed to be happy together married life.
" no luck again... " he said.
She didn't looked disappointed. But Dude felt like he had done just that.
He had failed.
" have you tried working at the postal office? "A soft nudge to something out of his working area.
Dude thought about it. What could be so wrong about working at the postal office?
Maybe he should actually try other stuff beside office work or random bullshit.
Yeah. Why not trying this?
. . .
Dude regrests this decision. He hate this job so fucking much and the pay isn't much better.
At least he has Dear and Champ by his side, if not, he'd go insane.
The pressure in the workplace is terrible, they run it like the navy, always screaming to him, always evil, mean, just rushing from a to b.
Giving him tasks that seem impossible to do in that short span of time at work.
It was enough to keep them a float, Dear was force out of her job by a certain inconvenience with a rude client. The staff preferred to fire her.
The client always is right or some shit like that. Of course, his wife was upset.
How dare they fire her to keep the peace when that fucking client was in the wrong? Not even dude could understand it.
It bothered him as much as it did to her.
Things go down hill. Dude couldn't stay on the job.
Literally driving him insane. He was having dreams, no- nightmares about that place, having to do the same, over and over, while they laugh, they screamed.
His vision blurry, red, bloody almost.
The feeling over him like a weighted blanket, making him sink deeper into the self misery.
That's the start for spiraling, sticking together because that's what their heart tell them. When friends start talking shit about them.
When it hurts their heart and nobody gets it beside your other half, your Dear.
Fingers tangle together, the distant barking of a dog as days past, eviction arrives. They're too absorb into their suffering, the shared pain drips down their house.
The car remains, so they put their stuff there and search. Search for something.
Search for a place, search for a job. Together, always together.
How he could leave her beautiful sorrow behind? How she could leave his beautiful sadness behind? They'd lift up each other.
They promised it. Together in the sickness and in the bad moments.
Naive yet full of hope and helplessness.
They drag a path of wrong decisions but never regret, cause it would mean regretting being together.
And they regret nothing of that.
. . .
There's this thing he hates, when he looks at the door, over the TV, theres it a picture, mocking him, mocking them.
Happy, slim, well care, in love, full of something.
This something long lost in the adversities.
Dude can't see it, can't see his own bright smile as that slim blonde is next to him, bubbly like soda.
He's too drunk, too high and they are laughing at him. They think it's funny how naive he was.
Taking this job in Paradise. He thought, he really thought it would help. So stupid.
And that bitch. Useless fucking bitch.
Yet he's mad that he doesn't wanna leave. Leaving her behind at this s moment, conflict on his mind. Mad that he's still with her. Mad that she's still his dear.
He cover his face with his hands, a leg bouncing as he murmurs. He doesn't know where he is.
Weight sinking into the couch, the light of the TV, the static of the walls as they melt, they stick to him, trapped.
Trapped on this place. On this feeling. He needs to end this. He needs to, it's begging for it. His weapons.
Murmuring. Sweet nothing into his ears.
A voice, something. Annoying, grounding, a woman. That bitch, she says something.
He stays glued to the couch, the feeling of coming back to his own body, he feels his stomach twisting as the motion sickness settle down. He feels like puking.
Dude walks, he moves. Not because he wants.
A steady pace, slow, he's a snail. That's true. He's a dog.
Somehow he obeys. He tiredly looks at her fat body on the bed, her pijama tight around her body. She pouts and nags him.
Those fake eyelashes. Deep blue mascara. It's early on the morning or late at night?
Pets a side next to her. Something about being too late, that he's making too much noise. Dude feels lost. So it's late.
Very late.
Dude is annoyed overall, already he wants to scream. Yet he stays shut, tight line on his face.
Silently he gets next to her, her warmth. Is so real. Her weight, so grounding. He doesn't know why that makes him feel so better.
Why? It doesn't make sense. To him, to nobody. He's a nobody.
He grabs her, closer, closer, he needs to be closer, she's real, she's real.
" Dude? What the hell? "her annoyed voice, it feels just right, taking a deep breath, her perfume.
" don't leave me..."she's real.
The Bitch tenses under his touch but doesn't try to pull away.
" don't do it... Please "she's so real.
A bitter silence, a soft hand on his hair, a soft petting, it reminds him of something.
" I won't.... "