— 𝓘𝐒𝐀𝐀𝐂.
@offorensicarts
𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐀𝐂 𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐗. ❛ ex-forensic scientist. owns a small ranch. american. hopeless romantic. uncle. harsh exterior. soft interior. ❜ written by #єємѕ
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀temp⠀⠀pinned⠀.⠀ ⠀⠀
what, from the bottom of my heart, the fuck?
thinking for a brief moment, ike gestures his head outside. “let’s get breakfast, my treat.” though he wonders what people will say if they see the two together, he just pushes the thought to the back of his mind and gathers his belongings.
“ either cheese toast or we goin' for a fatty breakfast at the bar . ”
watching her take the tablets, a brow raises in mock-offence at her comment about his age. with a small smile on his lips and a shake of his head, he slips off the bed again. this time grabbing his jeans and putting them on. feels safer, that way. “starvin’.”
her hand with a quiet thanks and a moment later——she chucks them down her throat . “ with men your age ya never know . ” she jokes ◞ trying to cut through the heavy atmosphere . “ hungry .ᐣ ”
“just fine,” he said, nodding toward her. “how ‘bout you?”
a moment passes, her eyes locking with his and a soft polite smile forming on her lightly moisturized lips. a small chuckle. “how are ya this evenin’?” she asked softly, watching him.
with his age, a lot of folks called him ‘sir’, but he preferred his name, by anyone. he knew he was getting older, but ‘sir’ made him feel ancient. “good, good.”
“isaac,” she gently nodded, her parents taught her to call everyone ( older than her ) ‘sir’ or ‘ma’am’ and so, it’s just a habit of hers. “i’ll be careful. don’t worry.”
the image that confession sends through ike’s mind isn’t one he was thinking of before. with a small groan leaving his lips and . . . bedsheets being grabbed and pulled over his legs. “fuck, ashley… what the hell did we do… this ain’t right.”
⠀ she burrows her face in the palms of her hands ◞ petrified 𖬺 embarassed . “ yea . ” she mumbles ◞ voice muffled . “ maybe . . . maybe i just took 'em off . i like to sleep naked . ” ⠀
her words have him widen his eyes and he slowly sits up, back resting against the headboard. “that don’t sound good… did you sleep beside me?”
⠀ after a moment of hesitation ◞ she climbs onto the bed 𖬺 sits beside him——t-shirt stretching over the knees . “ at least 𝙮𝙤𝙪 have ya junk covered . ” she says ◞ almost wails . “ my fuckin' undies were on the floor . ” ⠀
peaking an eye open at her, he pats the mattress beside him. “you’re stressin me out, darlin’. please sit.” rolling onto his back, ike soon realises he isn’t wearing any jeans, just boxers. “well, i was there early… had a few whiskey before you came.”
⠀ ashley starts pacing up 𖬺 down the room ◞ trailer's floor squeaking under her bare feet . there's stress looming over her . “ well ◞ we met at the bar . i bought us a round ... ” she groans ◞ head pounding . “ that's all for now . ” ⠀
with a pained look on his face, isaac lets his head fall back onto the pillow, his voice muffled as he speaks. “i don’t know… i really, really don’t.” feeling shame wash over him, the man thinks of his friend; ashley’s father. “what’s the last you remember?”
⠀ “ i hope we didn't . . . oh god . did we .ᐣ ” she looks at him with widened eyes . ⠀