And annoyingly—
annoyingly—
He looked ridiculously good today.
His suit rested on his chauffeur
Rolled sleeves.
Expensive watch catching the morning light.
Meanwhile I looked like someone abandoned outside a cinema for twelve business hours.
Unfair.
“You’re staring,” he said calmly.
“I’m jealous.”
“Of?”
“Your ability to look functional.”
“I slept.”
“Show off.”
That pulled a quiet laugh out of him.
God.
That sound was becoming a legitimate problem for me.
I dropped my head back dramatically.
“If anyone speaks to me for more than six consecutive minutes today, I may cry.”
“You’re dramatic when tired.”
“I’m dramatic all the time. Tiredness just removes the filter.”
“Hm.”
“I heard that hm.”
“It wasn’t hidden.”
“You use hm like emotional punctuation.”
A pause.
Then:
