Let me guess. Is it my feistiness or is it my curves.
Because historically it’s one of those two. Occasionally a thrilling combination of both.
There’s a beat. Long enough that I can feel my jaw set even though I’m alone in my kitchen.
Me
And whichever one it is, sod you. I’m allowed to be opinionated and I’m allowed to take up space.
I stare at the screen, already annoyed with myself for how fast I’ve gone there, but also very aware of how often I’ve had to.
Tom
No. Stop. That is not what I meant and I’m sorry I landed you there.
And I should have been clearer instead of assuming context would do the work for me.
Me
Context rarely does.
Tom
Agreed.
You’re not Rupert’s type because Rupert is gay. Very confidently so.
I blink.
Me
Oh.
Tom
Yes. That oh.
Me
You really should have led with that.
Tom
I know. I panicked and chose the worst possiblesentence structure.
Me
Impressive commitment to chaos.
Tom
It’s a skill. Rupert’s actually been with his boyfriend for years. A burly builder called Glen who looks like he could lift Rupert and most of his feelings in one go.
Me
A builder and an artist. That sounds like opposites attracting in real time.
Tom
