Thursday, 8 January 2015

Friends with penalties.

While Lochlan went to figure out all the details of his soon-to-be imaginary job working for Batman (again) I rolled out of bed headfirst and went out to breakfast with the Devil, who was in such a wonderful mood the only place I wanted to be alone with him was in public. He offered fried potatoes and I'll take those even if they come with a side of death.

Obviously.

Caleb was being nitpicky, evasive and snappish so I responded by being sweet. I asked him if I could pass things and cajoled him to eat his stupid egg-white omelet with a cute smile plastered on that would have to be removed with threats and a lot of elbow grease.

Caleb is in over his head with me, I'm afraid. He can easily overpower me physically but emotionally he has no idea what he's doing, why this is so difficult or exactly how hard Lochlan worked to raise me so that I would be quite unlike any other human being on earth, at least to the point of the typical gimmes that Caleb encounters with most of the women he meets. Nope, I'm nothing like them, and nothing like their opposites either.

He should just walk away before it's too la-

Oh, right. Nevermind. *looks at watch*

He started with awful things while I nibbled on my food. Threats. Promises. Certain complete dismemberment down to my baby tooth. My eyebrows went up and he said those too. But then after I failed to react further (trying so hard oh please please stay stoic, Bee) he softened and warned me about spending intimate time with someone I don't know all that well (I do) and then asked if I was satisfied ripping Loch's heart open always just as it finally begins to heal.

I shrug at that one but he gets a reaction when my eyes spring a tiny leak.

Caleb notices and pulls out fatherly/kind but I don't want that. It's easier if he just yells out of fear than if he sits here and shames me to pieces using Lochlan's feelings as ammunition.

I swallow some of the crow that comes back up and point out that Caleb doesn't have right of first refusal and nothing I've done in the past week concerns him at all, actually.

Then he asks if he should add to my bonus, since clearly it wasn't enough.

I shook my head.

Jesus, most women would say 'how much'? You slay me, Bridget. 

Like a dragon, Cale. 

Like a dragon, baby. A...fire-breathing dragon. He realizes what he means and pushes back from the table, taking a final sip of his coffee. I finish my juice as he shifts his gaze to the floor and somehow I feel like I just ripped his heart open again too.