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Prompt: “Do you wanna order something? Like maybe pizza?” + “Why?” + “I just saw somebody eating it on TV.”

Today has been long to say the least. Everything just kept going wrong. As soon as I got to the coffee shop I almost slipped on a drink spilt by a customer who was clearly still drunk from what I assume was a wild night out. And guess who had to clean it up. Then they threw up on the spot I had just cleaned. Guess who had to clean that up as well. Then the coffee machine broke. Then a batch of muffins burnt because Geoff forgot what time he put them in. Then a customer complained about their drink. A child threw their drink all over the floor, and again I cleaned that up. Then the register jammed. The fire alarm went off when Geoff thought it would be a good idea to smoke inside the building. Steph and Dan were off sick, so with Geoff being fucking useless and Melissa off doing manager things I had to take charge of the front counter. One man came in ordering a cinnamon frappuccino then threw it in my face because there was too much cinnamon.

Don't even get me started on the lunch rush.

It's over an hour after I was meant to leave work and I am completely burnt out. It is nearly seven in the evening and I started work at eight. I am just so incredibly tired and emotionally drained that one more problem will most likely send me completely over the edge. Putting my messenger bag in the passenger seat, I close the car door and lock it in case Geoff tries to jump in again and catch a lift home. If I so much as see his face I will punch him into the next state over. I just want to get home, change into sweatpants and a hoodie which will probably be Jack's before sitting under a blanket watching a movie.

With those plans in mind I begin the drive home, pulling away from the shop faster when I see Geoff walk out and notice my car. The drive is relatively peaceful, the low rumble of the engine only just audible over the CD being played. Streetlights are on and hardly anyone is out driving on this stretch of road. Only fifteen or so minutes before I reach home.

Then my phone rings. Noticing that the caller ID says "Jack" I sigh, finding the nearest spot to pull over in before answering the call. Note to self: change the ringtone for Jack from "I Wanna Fuck a Dog in the Ass" to literally anything but that, then swiftly change my phones lock code to avoid Jack changing his ringtone for at least another two weeks. Last time I got a call from him I was in the middle of a quiet store with two old ladies standing within a ten foot radius. They were not impressed to say the least.

"I'm just on my way home, what is it that can't wait another ten minutes?" I ask as soon as I pick up the phone once the car is parked.

"Dinner. Do you wanna order something? Like maybe pizza?" Jack asks.

"Why?"

"I just saw somebody eating it on TV."

"Jack," I sigh, running a hand though my already messed up hair. "I was gonna cook pasta tonight."

"We can have both." I could almost hear him shrug from his end of the call.

"Jack Barakat, we are not having two dinners."

"But we totally could." He responds cheekily.

"But we're not going to."

"You're such a spoilsport."

"We need to save money."

"You can stop buying coffee for a week."

"Hold the fuck up. Why do I have to give up something just because your fatass wants pizza?"

If he intends to or not, I can hear him grumble of "spoilsport" as he shuffles on what I assume is the sofa. It's silent for a few seconds before I raise another issue with his pizza proposal:

"Besides, you had pizza two days ago with your sister."

"Exactly!" He exclaims, and for a moment I have to pull the phone away just so I can retain my hearing in my right ear. "It has been two days. Two. Whole. Days. Are you going to let your boyfriend suffer? Don't you love me anymore?"

"Jack." I let out as a long and exasperated sigh, letting my head fall rather ungracefully onto the top of the steering wheel. "We are not ordering pizza."

"Baaaaabe." Jack whines, and that's all I hear for the next ten seconds before I finally cave.

"Alright, alright. You can order pizza."

"Thanks babe. It should be here in about fifteen minutes."

For a moment I say nothing. Then slowly I raise my head from the steering wheel, staring straight ahead out at the road with what I can only assume is the most unimpressed expression I could possibly muster.

"Jack."

"Alex."

"Please tell me you haven't already ordered pizza."

"I haven't already ordered pizza." He answers within a second.

"Jack."

"I ordered two."

"Jack," I groan, slumping back into the car seat and pinching the bridge of my nose. "Why did you order pizza then call me? Better yet, why did you even bother calling me?"

"I wanted to see if you wanted pizza or not. If my charm didn't convince you, then I would just have to hide the pizza somewhere."

"Two whole pizzas?" I ask with a huff of amusement.

"But if you did say yes, which luckily you have," He carried on, either not hearing me or choosing to ignore me. "Then I don't have to hide the pizza and you get to eat some of said pizza. A win-win situation, if you ask me."

"Christ, you're insufferable." I chuckle, sitting up in my seat and preparing to drive off as soon as the call ends.

"Yeah but you love it." He sniggers before his tone goes soft. "Drive safely, okay?"

"Will do, babe. My driving isn't that bad. Far better than yours, anyway." Rather than a witty reply, Jack just chuckles.

"I love you."

"Love you too, you pizza loving dumbass."

"If you don't watch your tone, you won't be getting any pizza."

"I'd like to see you try and keep that pizza away from me. I'll be home soon."

With a quick goodbye I put the phone back in my bag before pulling away from the curb, heading home to my stupid boyfriend who I wouldn't swap for anything. Not for a coffee or even two pizzas.

That doesn't stop me from slapping him around the back of the head when I get home though, as I slump down onto the couch next to him with a half-eaten slice in his hand and a pizza box on his left, another in his lap. He just grins at me, grabbing a slice of pizza from the box on his lap and handing it to me. Before I take a bite, he presses a light kiss to my cheek with a mumble of "love you" then returns to demolishing what I can see is his third slice.

Like I said, I wouldn't swap him for anything

Description
body div#devskin0 hr { }

Prompt: “Do you wanna order something? Like maybe pizza?” + “Why?” + “I just saw somebody eating it on TV.”

Today has been long to say the least. Everything just kept going wrong. As soon as I got to the coffee shop I almost slipped on a drink spilt by a customer who was clearly still drunk from what I assume was a wild night out. And guess who had to clean it up. Then they threw up on the spot I had just cleaned. Guess who had to clean that up as well. Then the coffee machine broke. Then a batch of muffins burnt because Geoff forgot what time he put them in. Then a customer complained about their drink. A child threw their drink all over the floor, and again I cleaned that up. Then the register jammed. The fire alarm went off when Geoff thought it would be a good idea to smoke inside the building. Steph and Dan were off sick, so with Geoff being fucking useless and Melissa off doing manager things I had to take charge of the front counter. One man came in ordering a cinnamon frappuccino then threw it in my face because there was too much cinnamon.

Don't even get me started on the lunch rush.

It's over an hour after I was meant to leave work and I am completely burnt out. It is nearly seven in the evening and I started work at eight. I am just so incredibly tired and emotionally drained that one more problem will most likely send me completely over the edge. Putting my messenger bag in the passenger seat, I close the car door and lock it in case Geoff tries to jump in again and catch a lift home. If I so much as see his face I will punch him into the next state over. I just want to get home, change into sweatpants and a hoodie which will probably be Jack's before sitting under a blanket watching a movie.

With those plans in mind I begin the drive home, pulling away from the shop faster when I see Geoff walk out and notice my car. The drive is relatively peaceful, the low rumble of the engine only just audible over the CD being played. Streetlights are on and hardly anyone is out driving on this stretch of road. Only fifteen or so minutes before I reach home.

Then my phone rings. Noticing that the caller ID says "Jack" I sigh, finding the nearest spot to pull over in before answering the call. Note to self: change the ringtone for Jack from "I Wanna Fuck a Dog in the Ass" to literally anything but that, then swiftly change my phones lock code to avoid Jack changing his ringtone for at least another two weeks. Last time I got a call from him I was in the middle of a quiet store with two old ladies standing within a ten foot radius. They were not impressed to say the least.

"I'm just on my way home, what is it that can't wait another ten minutes?" I ask as soon as I pick up the phone once the car is parked.

"Dinner. Do you wanna order something? Like maybe pizza?" Jack asks.

"Why?"

"I just saw somebody eating it on TV."

"Jack," I sigh, running a hand though my already messed up hair. "I was gonna cook pasta tonight."

"We can have both." I could almost hear him shrug from his end of the call.

"Jack Barakat, we are not having two dinners."

"But we totally could." He responds cheekily.

"But we're not going to."

"You're such a spoilsport."

"We need to save money."

"You can stop buying coffee for a week."

"Hold the fuck up. Why do I have to give up something just because your fatass wants pizza?"

If he intends to or not, I can hear him grumble of "spoilsport" as he shuffles on what I assume is the sofa. It's silent for a few seconds before I raise another issue with his pizza proposal:

"Besides, you had pizza two days ago with your sister."

"Exactly!" He exclaims, and for a moment I have to pull the phone away just so I can retain my hearing in my right ear. "It has been two days. Two. Whole. Days. Are you going to let your boyfriend suffer? Don't you love me anymore?"

"Jack." I let out as a long and exasperated sigh, letting my head fall rather ungracefully onto the top of the steering wheel. "We are not ordering pizza."

"Baaaaabe." Jack whines, and that's all I hear for the next ten seconds before I finally cave.

"Alright, alright. You can order pizza."

"Thanks babe. It should be here in about fifteen minutes."

For a moment I say nothing. Then slowly I raise my head from the steering wheel, staring straight ahead out at the road with what I can only assume is the most unimpressed expression I could possibly muster.

"Jack."

"Alex."

"Please tell me you haven't already ordered pizza."

"I haven't already ordered pizza." He answers within a second.

"Jack."

"I ordered two."

"Jack," I groan, slumping back into the car seat and pinching the bridge of my nose. "Why did you order pizza then call me? Better yet, why did you even bother calling me?"

"I wanted to see if you wanted pizza or not. If my charm didn't convince you, then I would just have to hide the pizza somewhere."

"Two whole pizzas?" I ask with a huff of amusement.

"But if you did say yes, which luckily you have," He carried on, either not hearing me or choosing to ignore me. "Then I don't have to hide the pizza and you get to eat some of said pizza. A win-win situation, if you ask me."

"Christ, you're insufferable." I chuckle, sitting up in my seat and preparing to drive off as soon as the call ends.

"Yeah but you love it." He sniggers before his tone goes soft. "Drive safely, okay?"

"Will do, babe. My driving isn't that bad. Far better than yours, anyway." Rather than a witty reply, Jack just chuckles.

"I love you."

"Love you too, you pizza loving dumbass."

"If you don't watch your tone, you won't be getting any pizza."

"I'd like to see you try and keep that pizza away from me. I'll be home soon."

With a quick goodbye I put the phone back in my bag before pulling away from the curb, heading home to my stupid boyfriend who I wouldn't swap for anything. Not for a coffee or even two pizzas.

That doesn't stop me from slapping him around the back of the head when I get home though, as I slump down onto the couch next to him with a half-eaten slice in his hand and a pizza box on his left, another in his lap. He just grins at me, grabbing a slice of pizza from the box on his lap and handing it to me. Before I take a bite, he presses a light kiss to my cheek with a mumble of "love you" then returns to demolishing what I can see is his third slice.

Like I said, I wouldn't swap him for anything