Page 166 of Lilah
"Yes..?" I furrow my eyebrows.
"And why the fuck aren't you coming home with me?" his face sets unhappily and I tilt my head, a small smile on my lips.
"You know why," I sigh. Then I lurch forward, pulling his head under my chin.
"Are you gonna miss me Sugar?" I hum teasingly and his arms find their way around my torso, pulling the rest of me closer to him.
He doesn't respond, only holding me close. I take it as a 'yes wonderful woman I'll miss you more than anything in the world because you are the greatest funny person ever.'
The little smile stays on my face until I realizing he's not letting go anytime soon.
"What's wrong?" I ask softly, he pulls his head away from me and looks up at me.
"I don't know," he mumbles and I know he's lying. He sucks at lying. And he's fiddling with the scrunchie on his wrist so he must know that I know that he's lying.
For a federal dude or whatever, he's not good at lying.
"You can tell me," I assure him. I mean, I tell him everything. Like, probably too much. He knows when I'm tinkling and when I'm pooping.
Yikes.
His reaction never differs. It's always either 'hurry up' or 'I'm not pausing the movie, hurry the *insert f-word* up.'
He doesn'tjudge. I mean, it is only a dookie so it's whatever.
But of all the things he hears me say, and of all the things he sees me do, never once have I looked over at him and found ajudgemental look on his face. And that's crazy because I don't think I'm very normal.
And as many times as I play the songCherry Pieby Warrant when we're driving somewhere, it surprises me how he doesn't even care. If I had a theme song, it'd be that one.
And I scream my lungs out when I play that song. I look over at him, he doesn't care.
If Grey had a theme song, it'd be silence. OrPaint It, Blackby the Rolling Stones. I even played that song for him once. He didn't have a reaction. It still makes me wonder if he even listens to music. Or his dancing is not moving. Or smiling.
Does he breathe?
What if he listens to classical music? I'm gonna have to test that theory.
"I don't like it when you're not with me," he finally says.
"Aww, I knew it. You do miss me," I hug him tight, "you're so cute. I miss you too."
He doesn't deny it so I giggle evilly.
"Fuckin' cute," he mumbles just a little bit unhappily.
"Would you rather me say adorable? Because you are adorab-" he cuts me off, kissing me harshly.
"Fuck off," he mumbles against my lips.
"Are you sure?" I tease, he pulls me onto his lap.
"You're really about to see up my skirt the way I'm sitting," I warn, looking down at my slightly spread legs and my black skirt.
"I'm about to? Does that mean you're gonna show me?" I watch as the corner of his mouth rises.
"Oh yes," I nod, "and once I've taken my skirt off, I'll be sure to dance on the table."
"Now you're just puttin' thoughts in my head," he trails his hand down to my waist.
