Thread: Going Down? (Traveler & Charlotte)

The shrieking was something that he could have done without. The thrown dishes, well... he had expected as much from her. She was hot-blooded, through and through, and he always knew that feisty in bed usually equaled fiery when red. The dishes were easy to replace they were just things. His eardrums were harder to replace, and if there was something that Vanessa knew how to use, it was her voice. At this moment it had risen to such shrill pitches that he was certain the manager would be pounding on his door at any moment, demanding that they both vacate. I hate you! Her voice rose even more, causing the word 'you' to sound more like 'chew'. You are a rude man! How could you tell me to leave? Now? After what that bitch did to my face! She threw another plate that smashed off the front door, sending splinters of porcelain across the bamboo floor. Jacob dodged the initial onslaught but felt the shards hit the back of his legs as they ricocheted off the door. I could have you arrested! He ducked again when she picked up a cutting board and hurled it, Frisbee styled, at his head. Then arrest me! She grabbed a metal trivet and clutched it in her hand, threatening him with another missile attack. There is no way I can move out in just one day! Damn it, Jacob! I love you! Then get rid of the fucking cat ! Secretly he didn't want her to get rid of it. He wanted them both gone, but he knew that she wouldn't part with her Precious, and it was easier to break up with her over her cat than to tell her that her voice and her whining and her general attitude was why he was sending her off. No one wanted to be told that they weren't good enough. It was kinder to make it about her cat. But he did hate it... that much was true. He hated it almost as much as he was beginning to hate her. I can't get ride of her! I love her! I thought Precious was a boy cat. Jacob's voice was flat. Damn, all this time he thought the pussy was a dick, and it was really a cunt. His lips tightened at the foul words that were peppering his thoughts. He'd always considered himself a gentleman, in complete control of his thoughts and his actions, but right now, with Vanessa screeching in his ear, he was completely uncouth. Boy, girl, what does it matter? I love my Precious kitty witty, she looked for the feline as she pursed her lips and started to talk in baby talk. Where is my Precious bitty? During her momentary distraction Jacob ducked into his bedroom. This was going from bad to worse. Plates and cups were one thing, but that metal trivet would do a number on his skull if she connected. That woman should have been a major leaguer she had a damn accurate arm on her. What are you doing? The clop-clop of Vanessa's heels followed him into the bedroom. Her eyes widened as she watched him packing clothes into his weekend bag. What are you doing? Where are you going? You have seventy-two hours, Nessa. I want you out when I get back. What? We can work this out, Jacob! Give me another chance! She brought her hands together, her bottom lip jutting out in what she thought was an adorable pout. This is just a little spat. It's nothing! Three days. He grabbed a few more things. Thankfully he kept a full suit in his office in case he needed one for meetings, and he had a few things at the gym. I'm done. Don't bother with the key I'll get the locks changed. NO! Her eyes grew wide. No! I've been with you for almost a year! I've invested my life in this! He yanked the zipper closed and walked past her, set on his plan. Make sure to take the damned cat. And the bed. I don't want it. But Jacob! She followed him out into the hallway in her stiletto heels. But Jacob! We're not supposed to be breaking up! You are supposed to ask me to marry you, and then we have children. Of course, through a surrogate, she smoothed down the front of her skirt to accentuate her curvy figure, and we live happily ever after! She was still in the same clothes she wore on the set but her make up had been wiped off. Thankfully the assistant convinced her that the makeup would look garish if it wasn't under studio lights, and Vanessa had believed the girl. After all, at least she had the sense to put on the camera make up the way Vanessa had wanted it. Not like that other trollop. She followed him into the elevator, her words dripping on him like rain on a sodden cat. He set his jaw and refused to answer. Her hand still gripped the now-forgotten trivet, and her other hand gesticulated like some live, epileptic cobra moving to hip-hop. She prattled into his ear as other tenants got on and off the elevator, and when the elevator door finally opened on the ground floor she was still telling him why he was making a mistake breaking up with her.