Emma and Kevin: Health over Passion

“I’m fine, Kevin,” I whined. “I’m not that sick.” Insert coughing here.

“Oh really, Emma? Really? You’re not sick? You’re practically hacking up a lung. Tell me, Emma, how does that make you ‘not sick’”

“Look, Kevin,” I said, coughing and throwing up a little bit of mucus in the process, “It doesn’t matter whether or not I’m sick, I need to finish this project now. I want to finish this project now. If I don’t get it out now, I’ll lose the idea! You know how that is.”

“So summarize on a sheet of paper. But you’re not going to stay up half the night writing. You have a fever of 102! Do you really think for one second that I’m going to let you work on this project of yours right now? At midnight? You’ve got to be crazy if you do. Besides, it’s not required for school. You finished your thesis. What more do you have to do?”

“But Kevin,” I whined some more, “You don’t understand. This idea is brilliant!”

“And I’m sure it will be just as brilliant when you’re better. Now summarize it in your notebook. I’m sure you’ll be able to hold onto the idea. You’ve always had a knack for that.”

I poked out my bottom lip and whimpered a bit. “Please, Kevin.”

“No.”

“Pretty please?”

“No.”

“Pretty please with a cherry on top?”

“No, Emma, and that’s final. How many times do I have to say it?”

I folded my arms and gave a loud sigh, rolling my eyes. That was about all the energy I could muster. “Fine.”

“Now, go to bed. I’ll be here all night. If you need me I’m in the living room, on the couch.” He kissed me on the forehead. “I love you.”

I nodded. “Love you too,” I replied and pretended to go to sleep as he turned off my lamp. He slipped out of my room and into the living room. I waited 10 more minutes before getting out my notebook, turning on my lamp and beginning to write the story. I had maybe 2000 words written before I heard footsteps coming towards my room and quickly turned off the lamp, putting my pen and notebook under my pillow. Turns out it was just quick enough, because he opened my door just then.

“Hmm,” he muttered to himself, “That’s funny. I thought I saw a light on in here. Guess I was wrong.” And he slipped back out.

When he had been gone 5 more minutes, I took my notebook back out, turned on the light and started writing again. This was too good of an idea to quit on. I couldn’t go to bed now. 500 more words and I heard the footsteps again. I go into the same routine as last time, turning off the lamp and putting my notebook and pen under my pillow even faster than before. He opened the door again and muttered to himself just as he had last time.

“I must be crazy,” And he closed the door.

This time, I waited 15 more minutes, just to be on the safe side, before I started writing again. I got into it really quickly. My hand was moving across the page faster than a dolphin swimming through waves. In fact, I got so into it that I failed to notice the steps coming down the hallway towards my room again. I also failed to notice the opening of the door until Kevin was standing in front of me, staring at me as I wrote on the page.

“Writing a story?” he asked, his anger rising. I could tell when I looked at his face.

“Yeah,” I mumbled meekly, staring at him.

“Is it good?” he asked again, sarcastically.

“I don’t know. I haven’t gone back over it yet.”

“Yeah, and you won’t be, not tonight.”

“I won’t be?”

“No, you won’t, not at all.” He paused. “Emma, what did I tell you?”

“To just summarize my idea and save the rest for later because I’m sick,” I whispered.

“Yeah, and did you listen to me?”

“No.”

“And I’m sure you remember our agreement very well, seeing as the last time wasn’t that long ago.”

“Kevin, please, don’t. I’m sorry. Besides, I’m sick.” I coughed some more. Whether or not it was because I actually had to or because it was for effect, I’m not quite sure.

“I didn’t say that it would be a big one, now did I? You just need a little reminder.” He sat down next to me. “Over my lap,” he said.

“I’m sorry, Kevin.”

“Yeah, right, I’m sure you are. You’re never sorry about anything that involves your writing.”

“Are you?”

“I probably would be if I knew what I was doing was making things harder for me.”

I thought it was a load of bullshit but I didn’t say that. Instead I just answered him by saying, “Fine. I’ll get over your damn lap.” And I did.

“Good. I’m glad you decided to make this easier for both of us.”

“You’re welcome,” I muttered dejectedly.

“I’m only going to give you 20 hits, Emma, and then we’re done, okay? It’s just a reminder that your health comes first. You can hold onto your ideas until later. You’ve always been able to do that. And besides, summarizing will help with that anyway. You got me?”

“Yeah, I got you.”

“Good.” And with that, he started spanking me. I would have screamed but it was late and Ali was probably in bed by now. Also, I was exhausted from being sick. It was better just to take it and besides, it didn’t hurt as much as some of the other spankings I had had in the past. Really, it wasn’t that bad. It just stung a little bit. He went easy on me.

I whimpered as he finished. “Did you learn your lesson?” he asked, sitting me up beside him.

“Yes,” I whispered.

“Good girl,” he said. “Now let’s get you back in bed.” He tucked me into bed and kissed me on the forehead. “Goodnight, Emma. I love you. No more writing tonight, unless it’s just notes. Alright?”

“Alright. Goodnight, Kevin. I love you too.”

He smiled. “Goodnight, Emma.” And then he closed the door.

Just between you and me, I didn’t really learn my lesson. ;)