I'll put my armor on,When I came home from work this afternoon Caleb was pacing the driveway. I parked my car facing him and he waited a moment because I didn't get out and then he charged across the brick and opened my door with one hand, pulling me out of the car with the other. I was marched up into his kitchen and let go roughly against the fridge. I grabbed the handles keep from falling and the doors opened and I felt a bit like a duck on skates while I attempted to right myself.
Show you how strong I am
I'll put my armor on,
I'll show you that I...
Have you quit yet or do I have to take action? He plucks me up off my precarious hang from the stainless steel handles and gives me a shake like a dog. Hard. My teeth chatter and I shriek at him and he finally focuses again and puts me down rather gently to the floor, making sure my feet are underneath me so I can stand.
I'm not quitting. You don't get a say in this. Sorry, Diabhal. It's a whisper but my guts are showering through.
He stares at me. I don't know if it's rage or resignation for a flicker and then I do. Very well.
(Very well? Who says that? Oh, wait, Batman does. And he's rubbing off on Caleb.)
I nod. Not sure if this means I can keep the job or he's now resigned to murder me after all. My nod falters into a bobble briefly and I square up in front of him, staring at the fourth button on his shirt instead of up into his eyes.
Do you even like it? You've come home crying twice in the first week and I feel as if Lochlan's forcing you into some sort of teenage Bon Jovi song where you go back to having nothing, being nothing because it's 'romantic'.
I don't like it sometimes but other times I love it. It depends.
On what?
If I get the orders right.
That's a very humble statement to make for one such as you.
Such as me?
Yes.
I am nothing, Diabhal.
Not to me.