Tumblr Request: " Leslie? Who the hell is Leslie? "
In the last week, his phone would trill in the middle of the day. Hvitserk would swipe it up, cover the screen as he texted. Maybe it wouldn't be with his hand. He would shift and dodge your prying eyes. Even during his favourite time of the day: dinner!
Yesterday, he had even conned you into leaving the house for two hours. When you came home... everything seemed to be in its proper place. That could easily be a lie. Who knew what he had done the other day?
Except... yeah, you had a feeling about what was going on. His brothers were the playboys of Kattegat. So what if Ubbe was settling down with a nice girl. Hvitserk had never been known to be anything but a fuck boy. You weren't so stupid that you could assume that you would be the last of his lovers. Your gut told you there was another woman on that phone.
"What'cha makin'?" He came up behind you, pants slouching a little. He wraps his arms around your waist, the baggy material of his pullover lifting your rosy, silky top.
"Fajitas." You murmur, twisting your neck to protect yourself from his kisses. The sway of your long hair knocks him in the face.
"What was that for?" He says, on key with the vibration of his slouching jeans. You glance at him over your shoulder, nearly rolling your eyes at him. You settle for a pout instead, gritting your teeth and mixing around the vegetables. Oil splashes over the rim, catching on your white gold promise ring.
"Who is that?" You ask. "Who keeps calling you?"
Hvitserk's hands slip away from your waist, turning to stand by the stove top. He shrugs your question off. For all the hiding that he'd done, you had never really asked who he was talking to. It's a terrible idea. Thwack!
"Shit! Ow!" Hvitserk shouts, the burn of a metal spatula against his knuckles causes him to drop the phone with a clatter of the screen. You dip down before he can, snatching his black phone off the ground. You flip the phone over.
Leslie
I'm almost there with her.
"Leslie?" You turn your head, body following suit. The colour drains from his already pasty face, running his hand through loose honey brown hair. "Who the hell is Leslie?"
"Babe–"
"You're cheating on me!"
"What?! I'm not chea–" Hvitserk almost shouts. You chuck his phone across the room. Quickly after, you yank his promise ring off of your finger. Like a flip of the switch, you shove it into his chest. Hvitserk hopelessly catches it as you spin on your heel out of the room.
"I knew you were cheating on me!"
At that very second, the doorbell trills through the house. Hvitserk's face blanks, your wrist in his fingers. He's not sure where to go this time. Whether to release your wrist or go after the door. Your eyes are already brimming with tears. If he were to know better he might think that this would be the defining moment. Either he stayed– he went.
"Better go get Leslie, Hvitserk."
"Fucking shit– wait. Wait here!"
Wait for him? The second he left your hand, you popped the burners off on the stove top. If there was one thing you were not going to stand here for, it was some blonde haired, triple D sized bimbo telling you how you weren't tending to your duties as his girlfriend or–
Woof! Woof!
A hearty, deep woof shakes the house. You whirl around, following a large man coming into your shared home. His deep, dark blue shirt is tight against his chest. Leslie's Lil Bit'o'Love, dog rescue. You look at the tall man commanding the dog on the leash, then your Hvitserk who comes back into the room and bends before what looks to be some sort of German Shepherd mix. But fluffier.
"Hey, names Leslie. Nice to finally meet you." The man rumbles, bending to unclip the dog from his leash. The dog hops on top of Hvitserk. "I heard it's your anniversary."
Anniversary– already?! You count the days until yeah, colour drains from your face, it was your anniversary. You had been so wrapped up in Hvitserk cheating that you let the day pass without finding him something, too.
"(Y/N)." You trail off, piecing it all together.
Hvitserk lays ruffling the fluff around the dog's collar as Leslie goes on about how great it was for Hvitserk to adopt a rescue dog, how much they were in need, especially those with special needs like Honey– which you come to understand is your new dog's name. After showing Leslie out, you look as guilty as the day that you ate all of his Valentine's chocolate.
And boy, are you a dumbass.
"Leslie was nice." You say awkwardly. Hvitserk's lips pout out having expected a better apology than that. Your face is hot with embarrassment when Hvitserk digs out the promise ring from his pocket, humming in agreement. He offers to take your hand and of course, you give it right back to him. He eases the ring back onto your finger, his forehead creasing as he looks back to you.
"I'm sorry Hvitserk would do, too." You wrap your arms around Hvitserk's neck, bringing him in. Your hand travels into his hair, cradling him there with Honey whining at your foot for more attention.
"I'm sorry Hvitserk." You say, "I made this a shitty anniversary. How do I make it up to you?"
The way he licks his lower lip gives you half a clue.
