= CHRIS POV =
I dropped my hands and sighed, crossing my arms as I quickly considered all the options I had before me right now.
A quick glance at my phone told me it was already a quarter to eleven. Calling a moving van this late wasn't ideal, but it wasn't impossible either. I exhaled slowly, running my hand through my hair one more time before turning back to Sarah with as much seriousness as I could muster.
"If you want me to sign that contract, you need to let me see it first," I said, schooling my expression into something stern and businesslike.
Sarah's bottom lip jutted out into a pout, her hazel eyes wide and pleading. It made it ridiculously hard to take her seriously, but I swallowed my smile and resisted the sudden urge to pat her on the head and tell her how silly she was being.
Not that this was new, it was just another thing about her that made me love her.
"You promise you won't rip it up and throw it away?" she asked, her voice grumpy and petulant. "I want you to take me seriously. You have to sign it."
"Fine," I relented, holding out my hand expectantly. "I'll sign the Three Cs contract. I hereby expect one of the three Cs to be provided at least once a day. Is that fine with you?" I arched an eyebrow, making an effort to sound professional despite the ridiculous situation.
Sarah's expression brightened, but then she hesitated, twisting a curl of her honey-brown hair around her finger. "So that means cunni—" she started.
"No," I cut her off before she could finish the word. "There are THREE Cs. THREE. You can choose ONE of them. Cooking and Cleaning are very important 'C's, okay?" I said, emphasizing each word like I was speaking to a particularly stubborn child.
She pouted again, this time deeper, as if the idea of me refusing her advances was the most baffling thing in the world.
"Do you think I'm not good enough?" Sarah asked, her voice softening into something meek and uncertain. "I've had a boyfriend. I'm sure it's not that different…"
I groaned and ran both hands through my hair, feeling the weight of this utterly bizarre conversation pressing down on me.
"No, you're great. Yes, it's absolutely the same," I lied quickly, my words tumbling out before I could stop them. "Fine, yes, that is okay as well," I added, though I had already decided that if that particular C ever came up, I'd suddenly develop an urgent need to visit my mom's house, which was convenient as she owned the apartment complex, and I could just take the lift up to her penthouse suite.
"Let's just get this paper signed, call the movers, and get out of here asap," I said, holding out my hand for her ridiculous contract.
Sarah hesitated, glaring at me like I'd personally insulted her, but eventually handed over the document and the pen.
I looked over the contract. Most of it was blank, with only the general rules and regulations printed out, leaving large spaces to fill in all the important details by hand.
"Where did you even get this contract?" I asked, scrawling my name in the blank labeled "Landlord."
Sarah giggled and hiccuped. "Umm… you know I worked temp at that one contract firm that sublets spaces to small businesses? I took a stack of their recycled paper home the day I got fired." Her grin widened as if this was the punchline to some elaborate joke. "Turns out it wasn't recycled paper."
"Sarah!" I gaped at her, my pen hovering mid-signature. "You stole legal documents?!"
She shrugged, utterly unrepentant. "Eh, the boss was a pervert. It was nice knowing that after he gave me the boot, he got the boot too; for misplacing 'Important Documents.'" She even used air quotes as she said it, clearly relishing the memory.
I looked back down at the paper, suddenly questioning whether this could somehow, in some strange twist of fate, end up being legally binding.
No, I reassured myself. She's intoxicated. No court in the world would take this seriously.
Still, I scribbled my name at the bottom, adding my signature next to hers before handing it back.
"Okay, done." I pulled out my phone. "Can I call movers and get you and your stuff over to my place now?" I asked briskly, getting into problem-solving mode.
Sarah suddenly wobbles on her feet, stumbling over to me.
I easily caught her with one arm around her waist, holding her up while quickly going through my phone to see what options were available under the moving company's app.
"Umm… no need," she slurred, her voice heavy with wine and exhaustion.
I stared at her. "What do you mean, 'no need'?"
"I already packed everything important," she said with a triumphant grin, pointing toward a single duffel bag sitting by the door. "That's all I need."
I looked between her and the bag, then back at her again. "You're kidding, right?"
She shook her head, her curls bouncing with the motion. "Nope. Everything else can burn for all I care."
And just like that, I realized I'd signed a contract with a hurricane dressed like a human being.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
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