Makes me wonder what kind of sounds he'd make underneath me.
Not my fault.
That's just where my brain lives now.
I'm already cutting down my actual behavior by ninety fucking percent. I'm not sacrificing my thoughts too.
For the love of God.
Besides, it's not on me that he decided to grow up and turn intothat.
A man with broad shoulders and a pretty mouth.
He's still staring.
I stare right back, waiting for him to catch himself.
He doesn't. No awareness. Nothing behind the eyes.
Just vibes.
I snap my fingers at him.
He jolts, eyebrows folding into that angry little frown.
"Leave me alone," he mutters, grabbing his phone.
"You were staring," I say.
Lorenzo fake-coughs dramatically. "Get a room."
I shoot him a death glare, and he sends me an exaggerated air-kiss. I ignore him and turn back to Rava.
He kicks my foot. "Look somewhere else."
"Or what?" I ask, crossing my arms. That throws him off. He wasn't ready for that one. He stares at me for a second, then stands up, picks his stuff up, and moves to another seat further away.
Honestly, good for him. Yeah, it stings more than I want to admit, but I kind of like that he finally has the guts to pull himself out of situations he doesn't like.
He never used to do that. He used to just sit there and take it.
I'm almost proud.
…
We're on the plane finally, waiting to take off for Spain, and of course Rava took the window seat.
The actual ticket had my name on the window, but sure, go off, little thief.
Now he's next to me, fidgeting nonstop. I'm trying to calm down, but having him right there is like traveling with a toddler who refuses to sit still.
"Maybe next time you could learn how to sit like an adult," I mutter.
He whips his head toward me. "I'm sitting fine. You're the one who's spread out like you own the whole damn row."
He genuinely looks annoyed.
It's so funny I have to look away for a second.
