Marshall and Trixie eating dinner with Owen and his parents
[[Two new guests at the end]]
[[Two new guests at the end]]
For fuck’s sake, could a man not have a normal dinner in his own home?
First, his son breaks up with his girlfriend, so the bitch has a goddamn conniption and moves into the gym. Okay, fine. Whatever. He did dumb shit when he was a kid too. BUT THEN, his wife insists on making the kid’s favorite dinner every goddamn night for nearly three months straight. Then, one night it’s him and his friends chilling at home enjoying a fine night of Mario Party and beers while the kid and the missus are out, until a fucking helicopter lands on the compound and his son’s crazy ex girlfriend that broke up with him over some stupid ass teenage shit shows up and ruins game night.
Then the very next fucking night after that garbage, the kid’s gay best friend showed up to the house and talked to his wife. Then they went to the gym, so naturally, natura-fucking-lly, he had to take care of the stew while that happened. Then, when he was finally ready to settle down and eat his meal with his wife, his son, and his son’s used-to-be-ex-but-now-they’re-together-again girlfriend… They brought the drama back into his home.
To top it all off, Owen’s fucking hellcat was there. Troy couldn’t see Oreo, but he could sense him.
So, it was only natural that the head of the table and the man of the house had a scowl on his face as he glared down toward Owen, Owen’s old best friend but they’re probably friends again Marshall, Trixie, and Kylie. Troy took the bottle of beer he had and brought it down to the table, popping the bottle with the counter of the table.
“So. Marshall. How have you been?” It was impossible for Troy’s voice to be dripping with any more sarcasm than it already had.
Better. The honest answer to that question was that Marshall had been better. Anything would be better than this awkward dinner invitation, and the terrifying apology he’d just made, and the awful knowledge that was bestowed upon him at the combat club. Marshall wanted nothing more than anything to just go home, curl up on Marty’s bed with her and a pint of ice cream, and watch cheesy movies for the rest of his night. He could forget about high school drama and lying best friends and just live the fantasy of fictional characters’ lives… except, he couldn’t do that. Marshall was instead at the Lyon’s Den, being directly addressed by the king of the pride himself, and you don’t just ignore Troy Lyon when he addresses you.
“I’ve been okay.” He lied. “Went to New York for a few weeks of winter break, now just getting back into schoolwork and dance and stuff. How about you?” Marshall cringed internally at the awkward small talk, but it seemed like the polite thing to do. That’s what you do when you are invited to someone’s house for dinner, you act polite and participate in conversations even if it sucks to do so.
“I been great. Ya know, it sure was nice of Kylie to invite you here. If I knew we were having so many guests, I might have shaved.” Troy’s words were directed toward Marshall, though by the end of it, his eyes were on Kylie. He rolled them, then looked back at Marshall, “ya know, it’s just the damndest thing. Past three months, Owen’s been more or less livin’ at the gym. You know that? ‘Bout that same length of time, I ain’t seen you or Trixie. And, well, look at that. The gang’s all here! You want a beer, kid?” Troy asked, as he took a swig from his own bottle. “I can get you a beer.”
Rather than save Marshall from Troy, he deserved some hell, Kylie went around the table giving everyone some stew in the bowls that were already in front of them, she stopped at Trixie’s seat. The mother smiled at the young girl, a soothing smile, something the dynamite lioness was known for, yet Trixie read a thousand and one things behind that little crook in Owen’s ma’s mouth.
Trixie knew very well this was a sudden change for the Lyons. It was a change for her too. And it happened so… quickly. But right now? She was following her instincts. No more running away. She needed to own up to her mistakes and not quit on this challenge, no matter how awfully hard it will most likely be. You don’t just get back with someone after a terrible break up. There was so much she needed to fix with her and Owen, with her and Owen’s family, with her and the school. It was endless. Even so, there was no backing out. She made her decision. “Looks good, Mrs. Lyon, what’s in it?” Trixie felt really weird, in this moment, to talk in a casual way with Kylie. Something was telling her this wasn’t your ordinary family dinner. Never wavering her eye contact with the gorgeous redhead, Trixie slipped her hand under the table and reached for Owen’s hand, grabbing it confidently, knowing very well Kylie was watching.
“Oh, you know. Gotta’ give my boys meat. It’s Beef and Guinness stew.” Kylie slowly started pouring Trixie some. “Bacon, beef chuck, onion, garlic, potatoes… just the best kind of things. And you can’t forget the spices and veggies!”
“Sounds amazing… I can’t wait, really.” Trixie needed more time with Kylie. She’d have to call her mom later and see what was the best way to ask for Kylie’s forgiveness. Her mom would know, wouldn’t she? They’re friends, right?
While Kylie and Trixie discussed the intricacies of the stew, Marshall was still being faced head on by Troy. Did he want a beer? This was, most definitely, a trick question. Marsh had no idea how to answer him. Was anyone else drinking? He broke eye contact with Troy long enough to look around the table, the only other seat with a drink was Kylie’s unattended glass of wine. Swallowing hard, Marshall looked back to Troy. “No thank you, sir. I’m not much of a beer person.” Most people knew that Marshall liked his drinks a bit, well, fruity… and he didn’t really feel like drinking on a school night at the world’s most awkward dinner party.
“Shame.” Troy said, taking another swig off of his bottle, “not much of a loyalty person either, are ya?” Why was Marshall even here? Wasn’t Trixie enough? After Troy spoke, Owen cleared his throat and looked across the table at his father, who raise an eyebrow. “What? He threw five years away without even askin’ you. Seems like he’s not a loyalty person to me.” Troy shrugged, and Owen didn’t say anything, but he did give Marshall a look that said ‘you should have taken the beer.’
Placing his spoon against the table, Marshall felt gutted. There was no way he was going to be able to eat tonight. Or if he did, he’d probably end up throwing it up after. Marshall was loyal. That wasn’t a fair accusation at all. He was put in an incredibly difficult situation, and he… picked the wrong side. He’d been best friends with Ophelia and Trixie for far longer than he was with Owen, it made sense at the time. Going against all of his natural instincts, Marsh chose not to verbalize his defense. Troy wouldn’t want to hear it, neither would Owen, it would accomplish nothing save for making things worse. “Not loyal to the right people, no. I made… a big mistake. Bigger than I even realized when I first came here. I’m sorry.” When he looked up, it was at Owen instead of at Troy.
“Yeah, me too.” For what it was worth, Owen’s words at least seemed genuine. It wasn’t exactly Marshall’s fault that he got played by Hailey; everyone got played by Hailey at least once in their life, it just so happened to be Marshall’s turn, and Owen got the bad end of the stick. Owen looked over at his father again, but Troy seemed to be done with the conversation. “So. How can we make this worse? It’s pretty awkward, but I feel like with a little push, we can shove it over the edge. Something like the episodes of the Office where it makes you feel awkward because it’s so damn bad. Trixie, Mom? Anything to add?”
Trixie glanced from Troy then to Marshall and frowned. No one deserved this. Regardless of past mistakes, getting even was not how you solved issues. She bit the bottom of her lip, contemplating her next words. While Trixie thought of her next actions, which could go terribly wrong, Kylie shrugged, placing the stew at the center of the table and taking her seat, “Really, I just want my boy to be happy.”
Taking a deep breath in, Trixie stood up, letting go of Owen’s hand, “I’m sorry if you’re going to see this as rude, but I’m going to take Marshall home now.” Trixie loved Owen, and his family had every right to be angry at both of them, but she couldn’t stand seeing Marshall like this. Marshall’s car was waiting, and he needed an out. If he wasn’t going to be the vocal one, she would be. Turning her attention to Owen, she apologized, “I’m sorry, but I’m tired of being cruel.” With that, she gestured for Marshall to follow her. It was now or never.
That was unexpected. Moments ago, Marshall had been praying for an easy out, and now he had one. That being said, if he took it, he’d be the biggest pussy ever. He kind of was, but that was beside the point. It was about time that he stopped running away from this, it wouldn’t help the situation. “It’s fine, Pix, really. I’m fine.” He deserved this, every second of the awfulness. “My car’s here, I can drive home after. Let’s just enjoy Kylie’s stew, I’m sure it’s lovely.”
“Trixie, sit back down. Dad, shut up and enjoy your beer.” Owen was quickly coming to the realization that he had to reign things in before they got out of control. It made sense, everything always sort of piled on him, so why not have it happen again when he’s finally starting to come up? Thanks, universe. “Dad, don’t shit talk friends. Trixie, Marshall’s a big boy, he can get himself to and from my house whenever he wants. He used to have a fucking key to the door for fuck’s sake. The next person to say something that isn’t a joke is getting punched in the mouth.” With that said, Owen looked around the table, daring anyone to try him.
Buncha fucking assholes, swear to god.
Welp. Trixie tried to help and sat back down. She wasn’t necessarily embarrassed or ashamed. She actually felt good that she could speak up and not be afraid to. Grabbing her fork, she poked some beef, before her eyes went up to a laughing Kylie, holding her wine glass. “Straight out of my past. Troy use to do that to me all the time, even in front of my father! Fuck my father. I’m still mad at him for giving you that tattoo. But that was like dejavu. So great. You guys are so similar.” She wiped the laughing tears from her face. Man, when was the last time she even called her dad? Oh well, he’ll live.
“Ya, well… the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, does it? You should call grandpa.” Owen shook his head, and set about eating his stew. The metaphorical whip had been cracked, and everyone knew they stood, more or less. It may have been Troy’s house, but the man of the house seemed satisfied to leave the reigns in the apparently able hands of his son for now, as Troy was silently drinking and eating his food. “Marshall, you’re doing your best. I commend your efforts. My dad can be a bit of a.. bit of a prick, to say the least.” To this, Troy tipped his beer in Marshall and Owen’s direction, seemingly in agreement.
Marshall nodded but didn’t dare say anything. He sipped at the water in front of him and hoped it would settle his stomach. Owen’s sort-of praise made him feel mildly more comfortable, but only mildly. After a few moments of quiet, he carefully took a bite of stew, chewing approximately one million times before attempting to swallow. “It’s great, Mrs. Lyon.” He complimented in earnest.
While the awkward dinner continued, Trixie realized all day she hadn’t checked her phone. Julie must be worried about her, unless Kylie already informed her that she was there. Quietly, she reached for her purse on the ground and pulled out her phone. Everything else became background noise, as her heart dropped when she saw there was only one snap from one specific individual, the rest was notifications about the party. Should she open it? Or ignore it…
“Thanks, Marshall! It’s not Remy level, but I try.” Kylie took another gulp of her wine. She was drinking more than eating. “Oh, Trixie!”
Trixie’s head snapped up from looking at her phone.
“Your mom and dad should be here Friday.” Nonchalantly, Kylie brought up news that should’ve been disclosed by her aunt, or her parents. But this was Kylie. She wasn’t very good at keeping things a secret. “My Candy-girls are reuniting! I’m so excited.”
“Oh.” Well, this was… hard to digest. Trixie had a lot of explaining to do with her parents… while Kylie talked on and on about the good ol’ days, Trixie went back to her phone and opened her snap. The face Lia was making in her bathroom could only put a light smile on her face. Instead of replying immediately, she dropped her phone back into her purse and went to continue her stew.
It was generally rude to check your phone at the dinner table, but seeing that Trixie had done it first, and Kylie seemed content on rambling about the past of the Candies, Marshall did the same. He had felt a notification buzz in his pocket not too long ago and was curious who it might be from. Marsh had his hopes set on a certain someone. It wasn’t that someone… it was Ophelia. A wave of nausea came back over him as he stared at the screen, clicked the button to open it, and saw her one word apology. Clenching his teeth hard, he fought the urge to chuck his phone into the pot of stew. His momentary bought of anger was cut short by a sudden sharp pain in his leg. “AHH!” Marsh exclaimed, reactively lifting his leg up from the source of the pain and banging his knee against the table in doing so. Peeking under the tablecloth, one ferocious cat eye stared back at him. “Easy, Oreo…” Marshall said calmly, trying to coax the hellcat off of him, which only made Oreo dig his claws in deeper.
Owen watched with mild amusement (sorry, not sorry) as Marsh was attacked by his cat, before he pushed his chair back and slid down to the ground. Laying on his back, he slid underneath the table and wormed himself over to Oreo. He put a hand on the cat’s head, and though it wasn’t clear what Owen was saying, his hushed voice at least seemed soothing. Oreo released his prey, and crawled on top of Owen’s chest. With the cat on top of him, Owen slid back to his seat, looking up at Trixie. “By all rights, I think I’m stuck on the ground now.”
“Not a bad thing, honestly.” Trixie smiled down at Owen. It was unfortunate she wasn’t wearing a skirt. Her attention couldn’t stay too long on Owen, when the sound of the front door could be heard. More like the front door being swung open and slamming against the wall. “DADDY, MOMMY, LITTLE BROTHERRRRRRRR! I’M HOME!” Very suddenly, Ruby Lyon, freshmen in college, came poking head inside the dining room, following the smell of her mother’s cooking. Another beautiful redhead. Her sweet face had a sly grin on it when she realized there was company. “And guess who’s with me?”
“Is it another beer?”
Much to Troy’s dismay, it was not. Instead, it was his father-in-law, who stepped into the room behind Ruby, and Troy frowned, glancing over at the wine drunk Kylie. This would end poorly. “I had to get in the house, somehow.”
“Kylie, don’t start bitching. Things were finally starting to get normal.”
With a simple, cold, death glare and a scoff, Kylie hmpfed and turned to her bowl of food which she barely touched, “Well, grab a seat. You know where to find the extra chairs.”
The Lyon’s den was an eventful place. That’s for sure.
First, his son breaks up with his girlfriend, so the bitch has a goddamn conniption and moves into the gym. Okay, fine. Whatever. He did dumb shit when he was a kid too. BUT THEN, his wife insists on making the kid’s favorite dinner every goddamn night for nearly three months straight. Then, one night it’s him and his friends chilling at home enjoying a fine night of Mario Party and beers while the kid and the missus are out, until a fucking helicopter lands on the compound and his son’s crazy ex girlfriend that broke up with him over some stupid ass teenage shit shows up and ruins game night.
Then the very next fucking night after that garbage, the kid’s gay best friend showed up to the house and talked to his wife. Then they went to the gym, so naturally, natura-fucking-lly, he had to take care of the stew while that happened. Then, when he was finally ready to settle down and eat his meal with his wife, his son, and his son’s used-to-be-ex-but-now-they’re-together-again girlfriend… They brought the drama back into his home.
To top it all off, Owen’s fucking hellcat was there. Troy couldn’t see Oreo, but he could sense him.
So, it was only natural that the head of the table and the man of the house had a scowl on his face as he glared down toward Owen, Owen’s old best friend but they’re probably friends again Marshall, Trixie, and Kylie. Troy took the bottle of beer he had and brought it down to the table, popping the bottle with the counter of the table.
“So. Marshall. How have you been?” It was impossible for Troy’s voice to be dripping with any more sarcasm than it already had.
Better. The honest answer to that question was that Marshall had been better. Anything would be better than this awkward dinner invitation, and the terrifying apology he’d just made, and the awful knowledge that was bestowed upon him at the combat club. Marshall wanted nothing more than anything to just go home, curl up on Marty’s bed with her and a pint of ice cream, and watch cheesy movies for the rest of his night. He could forget about high school drama and lying best friends and just live the fantasy of fictional characters’ lives… except, he couldn’t do that. Marshall was instead at the Lyon’s Den, being directly addressed by the king of the pride himself, and you don’t just ignore Troy Lyon when he addresses you.
“I’ve been okay.” He lied. “Went to New York for a few weeks of winter break, now just getting back into schoolwork and dance and stuff. How about you?” Marshall cringed internally at the awkward small talk, but it seemed like the polite thing to do. That’s what you do when you are invited to someone’s house for dinner, you act polite and participate in conversations even if it sucks to do so.
“I been great. Ya know, it sure was nice of Kylie to invite you here. If I knew we were having so many guests, I might have shaved.” Troy’s words were directed toward Marshall, though by the end of it, his eyes were on Kylie. He rolled them, then looked back at Marshall, “ya know, it’s just the damndest thing. Past three months, Owen’s been more or less livin’ at the gym. You know that? ‘Bout that same length of time, I ain’t seen you or Trixie. And, well, look at that. The gang’s all here! You want a beer, kid?” Troy asked, as he took a swig from his own bottle. “I can get you a beer.”
Rather than save Marshall from Troy, he deserved some hell, Kylie went around the table giving everyone some stew in the bowls that were already in front of them, she stopped at Trixie’s seat. The mother smiled at the young girl, a soothing smile, something the dynamite lioness was known for, yet Trixie read a thousand and one things behind that little crook in Owen’s ma’s mouth.
Trixie knew very well this was a sudden change for the Lyons. It was a change for her too. And it happened so… quickly. But right now? She was following her instincts. No more running away. She needed to own up to her mistakes and not quit on this challenge, no matter how awfully hard it will most likely be. You don’t just get back with someone after a terrible break up. There was so much she needed to fix with her and Owen, with her and Owen’s family, with her and the school. It was endless. Even so, there was no backing out. She made her decision. “Looks good, Mrs. Lyon, what’s in it?” Trixie felt really weird, in this moment, to talk in a casual way with Kylie. Something was telling her this wasn’t your ordinary family dinner. Never wavering her eye contact with the gorgeous redhead, Trixie slipped her hand under the table and reached for Owen’s hand, grabbing it confidently, knowing very well Kylie was watching.
“Oh, you know. Gotta’ give my boys meat. It’s Beef and Guinness stew.” Kylie slowly started pouring Trixie some. “Bacon, beef chuck, onion, garlic, potatoes… just the best kind of things. And you can’t forget the spices and veggies!”
“Sounds amazing… I can’t wait, really.” Trixie needed more time with Kylie. She’d have to call her mom later and see what was the best way to ask for Kylie’s forgiveness. Her mom would know, wouldn’t she? They’re friends, right?
While Kylie and Trixie discussed the intricacies of the stew, Marshall was still being faced head on by Troy. Did he want a beer? This was, most definitely, a trick question. Marsh had no idea how to answer him. Was anyone else drinking? He broke eye contact with Troy long enough to look around the table, the only other seat with a drink was Kylie’s unattended glass of wine. Swallowing hard, Marshall looked back to Troy. “No thank you, sir. I’m not much of a beer person.” Most people knew that Marshall liked his drinks a bit, well, fruity… and he didn’t really feel like drinking on a school night at the world’s most awkward dinner party.
“Shame.” Troy said, taking another swig off of his bottle, “not much of a loyalty person either, are ya?” Why was Marshall even here? Wasn’t Trixie enough? After Troy spoke, Owen cleared his throat and looked across the table at his father, who raise an eyebrow. “What? He threw five years away without even askin’ you. Seems like he’s not a loyalty person to me.” Troy shrugged, and Owen didn’t say anything, but he did give Marshall a look that said ‘you should have taken the beer.’
Placing his spoon against the table, Marshall felt gutted. There was no way he was going to be able to eat tonight. Or if he did, he’d probably end up throwing it up after. Marshall was loyal. That wasn’t a fair accusation at all. He was put in an incredibly difficult situation, and he… picked the wrong side. He’d been best friends with Ophelia and Trixie for far longer than he was with Owen, it made sense at the time. Going against all of his natural instincts, Marsh chose not to verbalize his defense. Troy wouldn’t want to hear it, neither would Owen, it would accomplish nothing save for making things worse. “Not loyal to the right people, no. I made… a big mistake. Bigger than I even realized when I first came here. I’m sorry.” When he looked up, it was at Owen instead of at Troy.
“Yeah, me too.” For what it was worth, Owen’s words at least seemed genuine. It wasn’t exactly Marshall’s fault that he got played by Hailey; everyone got played by Hailey at least once in their life, it just so happened to be Marshall’s turn, and Owen got the bad end of the stick. Owen looked over at his father again, but Troy seemed to be done with the conversation. “So. How can we make this worse? It’s pretty awkward, but I feel like with a little push, we can shove it over the edge. Something like the episodes of the Office where it makes you feel awkward because it’s so damn bad. Trixie, Mom? Anything to add?”
Trixie glanced from Troy then to Marshall and frowned. No one deserved this. Regardless of past mistakes, getting even was not how you solved issues. She bit the bottom of her lip, contemplating her next words. While Trixie thought of her next actions, which could go terribly wrong, Kylie shrugged, placing the stew at the center of the table and taking her seat, “Really, I just want my boy to be happy.”
Taking a deep breath in, Trixie stood up, letting go of Owen’s hand, “I’m sorry if you’re going to see this as rude, but I’m going to take Marshall home now.” Trixie loved Owen, and his family had every right to be angry at both of them, but she couldn’t stand seeing Marshall like this. Marshall’s car was waiting, and he needed an out. If he wasn’t going to be the vocal one, she would be. Turning her attention to Owen, she apologized, “I’m sorry, but I’m tired of being cruel.” With that, she gestured for Marshall to follow her. It was now or never.
That was unexpected. Moments ago, Marshall had been praying for an easy out, and now he had one. That being said, if he took it, he’d be the biggest pussy ever. He kind of was, but that was beside the point. It was about time that he stopped running away from this, it wouldn’t help the situation. “It’s fine, Pix, really. I’m fine.” He deserved this, every second of the awfulness. “My car’s here, I can drive home after. Let’s just enjoy Kylie’s stew, I’m sure it’s lovely.”
“Trixie, sit back down. Dad, shut up and enjoy your beer.” Owen was quickly coming to the realization that he had to reign things in before they got out of control. It made sense, everything always sort of piled on him, so why not have it happen again when he’s finally starting to come up? Thanks, universe. “Dad, don’t shit talk friends. Trixie, Marshall’s a big boy, he can get himself to and from my house whenever he wants. He used to have a fucking key to the door for fuck’s sake. The next person to say something that isn’t a joke is getting punched in the mouth.” With that said, Owen looked around the table, daring anyone to try him.
Buncha fucking assholes, swear to god.
Welp. Trixie tried to help and sat back down. She wasn’t necessarily embarrassed or ashamed. She actually felt good that she could speak up and not be afraid to. Grabbing her fork, she poked some beef, before her eyes went up to a laughing Kylie, holding her wine glass. “Straight out of my past. Troy use to do that to me all the time, even in front of my father! Fuck my father. I’m still mad at him for giving you that tattoo. But that was like dejavu. So great. You guys are so similar.” She wiped the laughing tears from her face. Man, when was the last time she even called her dad? Oh well, he’ll live.
“Ya, well… the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, does it? You should call grandpa.” Owen shook his head, and set about eating his stew. The metaphorical whip had been cracked, and everyone knew they stood, more or less. It may have been Troy’s house, but the man of the house seemed satisfied to leave the reigns in the apparently able hands of his son for now, as Troy was silently drinking and eating his food. “Marshall, you’re doing your best. I commend your efforts. My dad can be a bit of a.. bit of a prick, to say the least.” To this, Troy tipped his beer in Marshall and Owen’s direction, seemingly in agreement.
Marshall nodded but didn’t dare say anything. He sipped at the water in front of him and hoped it would settle his stomach. Owen’s sort-of praise made him feel mildly more comfortable, but only mildly. After a few moments of quiet, he carefully took a bite of stew, chewing approximately one million times before attempting to swallow. “It’s great, Mrs. Lyon.” He complimented in earnest.
While the awkward dinner continued, Trixie realized all day she hadn’t checked her phone. Julie must be worried about her, unless Kylie already informed her that she was there. Quietly, she reached for her purse on the ground and pulled out her phone. Everything else became background noise, as her heart dropped when she saw there was only one snap from one specific individual, the rest was notifications about the party. Should she open it? Or ignore it…
“Thanks, Marshall! It’s not Remy level, but I try.” Kylie took another gulp of her wine. She was drinking more than eating. “Oh, Trixie!”
Trixie’s head snapped up from looking at her phone.
“Your mom and dad should be here Friday.” Nonchalantly, Kylie brought up news that should’ve been disclosed by her aunt, or her parents. But this was Kylie. She wasn’t very good at keeping things a secret. “My Candy-girls are reuniting! I’m so excited.”
“Oh.” Well, this was… hard to digest. Trixie had a lot of explaining to do with her parents… while Kylie talked on and on about the good ol’ days, Trixie went back to her phone and opened her snap. The face Lia was making in her bathroom could only put a light smile on her face. Instead of replying immediately, she dropped her phone back into her purse and went to continue her stew.
It was generally rude to check your phone at the dinner table, but seeing that Trixie had done it first, and Kylie seemed content on rambling about the past of the Candies, Marshall did the same. He had felt a notification buzz in his pocket not too long ago and was curious who it might be from. Marsh had his hopes set on a certain someone. It wasn’t that someone… it was Ophelia. A wave of nausea came back over him as he stared at the screen, clicked the button to open it, and saw her one word apology. Clenching his teeth hard, he fought the urge to chuck his phone into the pot of stew. His momentary bought of anger was cut short by a sudden sharp pain in his leg. “AHH!” Marsh exclaimed, reactively lifting his leg up from the source of the pain and banging his knee against the table in doing so. Peeking under the tablecloth, one ferocious cat eye stared back at him. “Easy, Oreo…” Marshall said calmly, trying to coax the hellcat off of him, which only made Oreo dig his claws in deeper.
Owen watched with mild amusement (sorry, not sorry) as Marsh was attacked by his cat, before he pushed his chair back and slid down to the ground. Laying on his back, he slid underneath the table and wormed himself over to Oreo. He put a hand on the cat’s head, and though it wasn’t clear what Owen was saying, his hushed voice at least seemed soothing. Oreo released his prey, and crawled on top of Owen’s chest. With the cat on top of him, Owen slid back to his seat, looking up at Trixie. “By all rights, I think I’m stuck on the ground now.”
“Not a bad thing, honestly.” Trixie smiled down at Owen. It was unfortunate she wasn’t wearing a skirt. Her attention couldn’t stay too long on Owen, when the sound of the front door could be heard. More like the front door being swung open and slamming against the wall. “DADDY, MOMMY, LITTLE BROTHERRRRRRRR! I’M HOME!” Very suddenly, Ruby Lyon, freshmen in college, came poking head inside the dining room, following the smell of her mother’s cooking. Another beautiful redhead. Her sweet face had a sly grin on it when she realized there was company. “And guess who’s with me?”
“Is it another beer?”
Much to Troy’s dismay, it was not. Instead, it was his father-in-law, who stepped into the room behind Ruby, and Troy frowned, glancing over at the wine drunk Kylie. This would end poorly. “I had to get in the house, somehow.”
“Kylie, don’t start bitching. Things were finally starting to get normal.”
With a simple, cold, death glare and a scoff, Kylie hmpfed and turned to her bowl of food which she barely touched, “Well, grab a seat. You know where to find the extra chairs.”
The Lyon’s den was an eventful place. That’s for sure.
