I stare at them both.
"At least I have a date," I say. "You two are just sitting here talking shit and wasting air."
Jin makes a dramatic gasp. But Gio just smiles.
"Babe," he says, "I'm on a break from the dating world today. Reclaim my throne tomorrow."
Jin nods solemnly. "Self-care." I roll my eyes.
"Yeah, okay. Enjoy your deep spiritual journey," I mutter, grabbing my cologne off the dresser. I walk out without looking back. I don't need to. I can still hear them laughing.
And maybe I slam the door a little harder than I mean to.
Whatever.
AUTHOR’S NOTE:
HEY! I just wanted to clarify that Jin doesn’t hate his brother, and he is definitely not some kind of villain. A lot of siblings are like this with each other, just like I am with mine, it’s really not that deep!
Also, no, Gio is not immature. We are just still in the very early stages, so please trust me on this one divas :) That’s all, kisses!
9) You’re Overreacting
Rava
We pick up takeout from that place she likes. Some grilled seafood, lemon rice, fresh bread. She laughs when I pull out the cheap bottle of red wine I grabbed on the way.
Says it feels "romantically trashy." We sit on the sand. Lay out a blanket. Watch the last streaks of sun melt into the sea.
It’s kind of… quiet. Nice quiet, I guess. We didn’t come to do anything crazy. No clubs, no plans, no drama.
Just watch the sun hit the water, talk a bit, exist together. We came in the late afternoon so we won’t literally die from the heat.
There’s just the sound of the waves, the clink of the wine bottle, the occasional laugh when one of us tries to eat too fast and drops something.
And I think, "you know what? this is nice."
It isn’t electric or perfect. But it’s easy. Familiar. I look over at her. She plays with the sand in front of her. I feel the corners of my mouth twitch into a smile, even though part of me has been on edge around her lately.
Then she checks her phone.
Again.
And again.
And again.
I pretend not to notice. For the first… five times.
But then she starts typing. And doesn’t stop.
I try to distract myself. I really fucking do. I pour more wine, look at the sky, pick at the bread.
She laughs softly at something on the screen.
Whoever she’s texting must be fucking delivering the secrets of the universe, because she hasn’t looked up in ten minutes.
I stare at the sand, trying not to feel stupid.
