Have Yourself a Merry Little Apocalypse by Shipton L. Z

Author:Shipton, L. Z.
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tyrannosuarus Yes Media
Published: 2023-12-02T00:00:00+00:00

FOUR

Marla woke the next morning on the couch under a heap of blankets, with Ben’s arms folded around her and his chest against her back. Sweat was sheening on her skin; it was like being held by a furnace. She pushed the blanket pile off and shivered in the chilly air of the living room. The fire had burned down again.

Untangling herself from Ben, she rolled off the couch onto the floor. Bazooka, who had been curled up right below her, barely managed to scramble out of the way.

“Where you going,” mumbled Ben.

She stood up, hauling her coat around her shoulders. “Start the fire.”

He groaned and rolled onto his back, blearily opening his eyes. “I feel like I should do that. Being the man.”

Marla scoffed. “Do you know how to make a fire?”

“No.”

“Do you even know how to split a log?”

“Think I split your log pretty good last night.”

She rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe you survived the apocalypse.”

“Guess it’s a good thing I found you. If anyone was voted Most Likely to Survive the Apocalypse, it would have been Marla Fuckin’ Quinn. Anyway, I have generators.”

“Right. Your fucking generators.”

“What’s wrong with my generators?”

Marla opened her mouth, then remembered it was Christmas, and closed it again. “Nothing. They’re fine.”

“So you don’t mind if I turn my Christmas lights back on today?”

Marla sighed. “No, I don’t mind if you turn your Christmas lights back on today.”

Ben reached behind her thigh and tugged her back toward the couch. “Actually, I was thinking…I might move them.”

“Move them?”

“Mhm.”

“Where?”

He trailed one finger from her knee to her hip. “...over here?”

Marla folded her arms. “Oh really.”

“It is my house, after all…”

“Mm.”

“And it’ll be much easier to fuck you if I’m already over here.”

“Uh huh.”

“And…we may have to repopulate the Earth at some point. Which is going to mean an awful lot of fucking.”

“What a waste of all those carefully hoarded condoms.”

He shrugged one shoulder. “I won’t miss them.”

“Right.”

He bent one arm behind his head and looked up at her, his fingers circling her thigh. “And…it is Christmas…”

Marla caught his hand as it wandered under the hem of her coat, and laced her fingers through his. “Alright, Shirt Parade,” she said. “Bring your damn Christmas lights over.”

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