"Do what?"
"Looking at me like you want to eat me."
"Because I do."
Sweet, sweet, sweeeeeet fantasy, baaaaaaby.
When words utterly fail me, there's always the Mariah Carey to articulate what I want to say, and everything that's happening right now is the sweetest fantasy, since it wasn't so long ago when I really believed it was over between us.
Oh, Mr. Mine.
Mr. Mine stiffens when he sees my lip start to tremble. "What's wrong?"
I wish I can tell him there's truly nothing wrong this time, but all I can do at the moment is bite my lip hard to keep myself from crying stupid tears of joy.
Stop being such a crybaby, self!
Mr. Mine's jaw clenches. "If you're suddenly having second thoughts about me, just forget it."
"But—-"
"I don't give a fuck if you suddenly feel I'm too old for you. You're mine now," he says savagely, "and I'll never let you go."
Oh.
Wow.
Mr. Mine is being jealous again.
Hihihi.
I cup his face, and he jerks at my touch.
"If you had just let me speak, I would've told you that the reason I'm fighting back tears is because I'm happy."
"Bullshit."
"But it's true," I insist. "You're the only man I've ever cared about—-" My voice trails off when Mr. Mine takes hold of my hands before gently lowering them down.
"You say such words easily, my sweet."
"Because it's true."
"And yet you've let that boy touched you."
Uh...oh.
"Did you not?"
He makes me feel defensive, but I choose to go on the offensive instead. "What about you?" I ask archly. "Do you expect me to believe that the whole time we weren't together, you never—-"
"Never."
Uh...oh, 2.0.
I don't waste time making amends, and I apologize in a rush. "My bad. I'm sorry."
"Not good enough, I'm afraid."