I’m currently sat on the sofa in our lounge with a stripper stood infront of me, leaning into me with her hands rested on my knees. Bloody hell. This is Niall’s doing, it’s my birthday today and I’m twenty one. Niall thought it’d be a great idea to call a stripper round to our house.

You, Niall and I were just going to have a few drinks at our place tonight for my actual birthday night. A quiet night in, I thought. Tomorrow night we’re having a huge party, I thought tonight would be chill for fucks sake. I can’t lie, I am pretty tipsy right now.

“You’re a fucking idiot.” I grumble slightly slurred, sharp eyes locked on Niall as he’s sat on the opposite sofa, rather than the busty brunette stripper, wearing nothing but lingerie, who I have no interest in.

“I don’t even get a thank you?” Niall replies, cocky as ever. He thinks this is funny.

You’re out at a supermarket getting more alcohol, you’ll be back home any minute now. Not to mention, you’re my wife. We’ve been together since we were fourteen years old, married two years ago when we were both eighteen. Yes, we got married at eighteen. Some say we’re dumb for marrying so young, we say fuck ‘em.

I’m about to respectfully push the stripper off of me and ask her to leave when the living room door opens. I didn’t even hear the front door open when you got back. Fuck. Niall snorts, bastard. The stripper doesn’t even look over her shoulder, still staring at me like she wants to devour me. Gross.

Your eyes widen, lips part in shock and then a furious scowl forms on your face. Jesus Christ, my wife is looking at me with a half naked girl infront of me, leaning on my knees and staring into my bloody soul.

“What the fuck is going on?” You snap, tone full of rage and disbelief, your beautiful eyes raking over the scene infront of you.