'til death do I part. [ic]

Just about two months after he'd been accepted into the position, people working at Dawson & Creeke Law Firm agreed that a certain higher up they worked for was stern, firm, and not easy to get along with. When the rumours spread that he started taking an interest in Aubrey Lewis, however, the whole place was buzzing. Nonchalant but very much aware, he watched as the ladies gossiped about her not being more good-looking (or, to put in their exact words, "hot"), or the guys wondering why he espied the "cutest" woman from Records. He just didn't care anymore. It sent his heart racing, each time he saw her work, caught a glance of her during coffee break, or watched as she left the building, her parking space being adjacent to his. Four years later, those same employees who called him static would've been surprised at what they'd said about him. In fact, they'd never seen anyone as happy as he was. Yes, he was kinder to his colleagues, but despite that he was somewhat hated. Again. His life was all peaches and cream now, and they all had dull dinner alone, or with family they just aren't satisfied with.

William Black lived the life he'd always dreamt of. Marriage was just the cherry on top.

He shifted away from the light streaming from the small gap between the curtains and shining on his face. Almost as if it were a reflex action, he wrapped his arms around his Aubrey, her snuggling back. He planted a small kiss on the nape of her neck and got up, slowly of course, as he usually did on Saturday mornings. He wasn't much of a morning person but he tried as best as he could to remedy his morning blues. First off, get some breakfast, curl up on the couch and read a book, maybe fall asleep again. That was more like it.

Aubrey was all he could think about for some odd reason. Even as he made breakfast for the both of them, all he could hear in his head was the sound of her laughter, and the two words he'd been wishing and hoping to hear in their four years of being together: "I do." Perhaps it was the hangover from the wedding; he just never thought he'd even get to that point. It was even a wonder that she fell for him. Irritating, stern, pragmatic, strict. How was she able to bear with his character? Why did she even choose him in the first place? She had Tom Altman; she'd dated him before and he was more than aware that they hadn't really gotten over each other. There was Dave Rothko. The... Oh, he wasn't so sure about what to make of him. He could be the office asshole, but he was the office gofer. How was he able to land that job?

[i]Kss[i], went his finger. It took him a while to realize he'd been accidentally while frying up some bacon. He screamed in temporary agony, muffling the sounds of his groans with his mouth as he went to run it under a cold tap. "Shit," he groaned.

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