MB Saucy Side: Confetti (Talia Version) (Patreon)

“Trust me.”

Talia’s words cause you to hesitate. Most of her plans that begin by soliciting your faith end with, at very least, a sternly-worded lecture from Kim.

That being acknowledged, the way that she’s looking at you right now, with sideways smile and heavy-lidded brown eyes, causes you to accept her outstretched hand before you’ve fully talked yourself into compliance. Her fingers wrap around yours.

She leans close and whispers into your ear, “We’ll need to be quiet.”

Logic dictates that you demand an explanation (Talia’s fondness for surprises, combined with her disregard for “No Trespassing” signs, has landed you both in multiple law enforcement offices). But her thumb keeps tracing small circles over the back of your hand, and her gaze focuses on your lips with such intensity that you forget that last time you trusted your girlfriend, you both ended up being caught buck naked in a Supreme Court Judge’s vacation home pool. You’d managed to evade the guards, but had been unable to recover your favorite pair of pants.

As Talia’s lips press softly against your own, however, you find willing to once again gamble the (literal) shirt of your back—or off her back, should you be so lucky. Your hands clench the fabric of her shirt, bringing her closer so that your torso presses against hers, and you feel Talia’s breath stutter with excitement against your lips. Then, with a reluctant sigh, she pulls back.

Wordlessly, she pulls you down the hallway. You stumble after her, squinting to make out the numbers lining the office doors. The lights at Aeon are turned off on this floor, the late hour meaning that most AMOs and MIVs have headed home. You and Talia only just finished work and should be returning to your separate homes. But her whispered “Trust me” isn’t just a plea, it’s a promise.

Being with Taliaferro Parker means being open to adventure.

Talia suddenly stops, and you almost crash into her back. She spins, catching you just in time.

“We’re here,” she says, attempting to whisper but unable to keep herself from laughing. She reaches into her hoodie pocket—it’s neon orange about the only thing you can clearly see in the dim emergency lighting—and takes something out.

“You would not believe the trials I endured to get my hands on this keycard.” Talia shudders. “It involved flattering Clarence.”

“My hero,” you declare.

The keycard reader beeps red as she slides the card, and you hear the door unlatch. Talia pushes it open.

You groan, recognizing the shadowed layout of the office’s furniture. Of all the . . . of course Talia would choose here of all places for a late-night rendezvous. At least, you hope it’s a late-night rendezvous. It’s been hard to get time alone with your girlfriend since her apartment flooded and she moved in with Kenna, as Antigone and Cassandra have schemed to begin whining in front of Talia’s bedroom door as soon as you shut it. Kenna has apologized, explaining that the shih tzus dislike feeling excluded, but the fact remains that you haven’t had quality alone time with your girlfriend in over two weeks.

But still. Couldn’t she have picked someplace more romantic?

“Talia.” You flip on the switch, the overhead light shining confirmation upon your location. “Why are we in Rosy’s office?”

Talia pushes aside the neat stacks of paperwork on Kim’s desk. She poses, half-humorously, half-seductively, leaning back on the vacated area like a calendar model posing atop a muscle car.

“Isn’t that obvious?” she asks, crooking a finger at you. “I’ve missed you.”

“You’re going to get us killed,” you protest, but nevertheless step near enough for her to wrap her arms around your waist.

She mumbles an “uh-huh” that sounds vaguely apologetic, but seems more focused on undoing the button of your uniform collar than making amends. The button pops open, and then another, and then her lips are trailing down the line of your neck and onto your bared shoulder.

One of your hands grips her upper arm as if to order her to stop, but the other splays over the back of her head, silently urging her to continue.

“I thought—” Talia nips your shoulder, “we deserved—” her tongue flicks over your collar bone, “a break,” she finishes, returning to your neck.

“But why here?” You gasp as Talia begins to undo more buttons to your jacket. Her fingers are cold against the bare skin of your chest.

“Because no one would dare enter Rosy’s office without permission.” She pulls back with a slight frown as one button remains stubbornly hooked. You place a hand over it, halting her progress on your clothing.

“I have missed you,” you admit. “But I’d rather we didn’t get expelled.” As an apology, you lean forward and gently bite the shell of her ear.

Talia groans and looks up at the ceiling as if praying for divine patience.

“Not to mention,” you continue, “we just got off probation due to our last meetup. If Rosy catches us, we’ll be writing daily extra credit exams until we graduate.”

“I both hate and love your logical side,” Talia says.

You gently tease her earlobe with your teeth and whisper, “Some risks are worth it. But not this one.”

“Fair enough,” Talia admits. “That’s not why I brought you in here, anyway.”

“It isn’t?”

Talia shakes her head with a sly smile. She drops to one knee. Before you can begin to formulate a response (You’re still enrolled at Aeon! You’ve only been dating for a year!), she pulls out a key from her hoodie’s pouch and presents it to you like an engagement ring.

“Love of my life,” she says, “will you move in with me?”

Your hug almost knocks her onto the floor. She responds to your kisses with enthusiasm, before reluctantly pushing you away.

“I have a realtor lined up to show us a few places tomorrow,” she says. “There’s this one condo around twenty minutes from Aeon that I think you’ll really like.”

“I’m sure it will be perfect.” You beam at her, then frown slightly with confusion. “But why go through all the trouble of sweettalking Clarence just to ask me here?”

Talia’s eyes widen as if just recalling something. She leaps up from the floor and heads over to the window, where she pulls what you at first take to be the curtain string. Instead of a shade, however, a large rainbow banner unfurls over the glass, printed with the words “They Said Yes!”

“Wait for it,” Talia says. She reaches once more into her hoodie and pulls out a small remote with a single button. She pushes it.

Immediately, you’re immersed in a shower of confetti. You glance up at the ceiling to see that several boxes that have been duct taped to the ceiling corners. It takes almost an entire minute for their contents to run dry, and when the explosion ends, Kim’s office resembles a New Orleans street corner the day after Mardi Gras. Confetti coats every inch of the room in a sparkling rainbow dew, and Talia hasn’t stopped laughing.

“Do you know how hard glitter is to get rid off?” Talia asks with a wicked smirk. “That is why I picked Rosy’s office.”