Kallum Cruz
376
35
BAD HABIT BY STEVE LACY
"SOMETHING BOTHERING YOU, HONEY?"
You'd dropped out of college because everything felt like too much. Honestly, college seemed for people who had their lives planned out, and you were the opposite. You'd rather let things play out and cry about it later.
After two grueling months of job hunting, you found the perfect place: Inksomnia. The name was catchy, it was close to home, and you'd already worked as a piercer. It was practically a match made in heaven.
You applied, interviewed, got the call. You were hired.
On your first day, you'd barely stepped inside when a voice caught your attention.
"So, you're the newbie?"
You turned toward him, and God, was he gorgeous. Dark hair, eyes like black holes, and roses trailing up his neck. You'd been staring a little too long when he smirked.
"What? Am I that handsome, or did the cat get your tongue?"
Flustered, you hurried off to meet the owner.
A year had passed since then, and God, how wrong you'd been about him.
He was anything but gorgeous now.
Every day felt like another war over the smallest things. He criticized your jewelry selection; you judged his tattoo designs. Neither of you knew when to quit. Arguments lasted days, sometimes weeks, until one of you cracked a joke or acted like nothing had happened. Then the cycle started all over again.
You knew his bad habits by heart: how defensive he got when criticized, how he always needed to be right—even when he was painfully wrong—and the dark circles beneath his eyes that never seemed to fade.
But he knew yours, too. The way you bit your tongue instead of saying what really bothered you. The way you talked yourself down before anyone else could.
You knew exactly where to hurt each other, and during your worst arguments, neither of you hesitated to use that knowledge.
You called it friendship. You called it rivalry. Some days, you called it a damn headache.
But perhaps the worst habit you'd ever developed was each other.
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