I fell onto the bed beside him, my chest rising and falling as I realized that had been as much of a contrast to our previous times with each other as it could get. There had been no reluctance or moralizing on his part, no issues with communication, no irritation or judgment on my part. We had simply come together and then, well, come together.
It was freeing in a way that it hadn’t been with another person in, God, how long?
Ever?
Was it ever?
Before that thought could take root, he chuckled. “Hungry?”
“Starving actually,” I admitted, glad to be rid of that irritating thought for a moment. “How did you know?”
“Hey, I’m actually vers. I know that even if you don’t fuck someone for a long time, it’s hungry work,” he chuckled. “Get us some sandwiches and drinks, and we can…hang out for a few hours?”
I stared at him for a moment. Was this some sort of date or just?—?
“There is hot chocolate,” he said, raising a brow.
Now there was a convincing argument.
LUKA
“You cannot,in all good conscience, believe it didn’t go on longer than necessary,” Rowan said with a sneer. “Even you can’t have that bad an opinion.”
“Okay, first off,” I said, pointing at him with the remainder of the crust from my sandwich, “my opinions also include that you are actually a decent person, a fun person, and a person worth knowing. So think about that before you start judging.”
“Was that meant to convince me to trust your opinions more?” he asked wryly. “Because that was not the selling point you thought it was.”
“Oh, so instead I’m supposed to listen to the man who’s willing to sell himself short?” I asked wryly, popping the crust into my mouth and reaching for the remainder of my now lukewarm chocolate. “That’s not the selling pointyouthought it was.”
Rowan snorted derisively. “The man gets laid and is confident enough to determine what and who he should or shouldn’t listen to.”
“A good dicking is the perfect way to get a clear head that masturbation will never achieve,” I told him as I drained my mug. We were both wearing loose pants as he sat in achair, probably because of his back, and I sprawled in a half-sitting position that made him shake his head when he saw it. I suspected it was because, with his back problems, he was envious, or maybe it had nothing to do with that, and he just thought it was the most undignified position he’d ever seen. He wasn’t wrong; it wasn’t going to win any awards from Miss Manners, that was for sure. “And itwasa good dicking, for the record.”
“Mmm, naturally,” he said with a confidence that was too smooth and casual to be arrogant, but...I thought I saw a twinkle of amusement and pleasure in his eyes. I couldn’t be sure, but I wanted to say I had made him preen. It wasn’t easy to tell because he wasn’t the most expressive of people, but I definitely thought I had, even if just a little. “But now we’ve established that you have questionable taste and views, something that does not speak well for your abilities as a Guide?—”
“Oh, har har,” I said with a roll of my eyes as I eyed the bag of chips I had brought with the sandwiches. “Just because I think the show didn’t flop by the end doesn’t mean I have bad opinions, just a different one.”
“You are allowed to be wrong,” he said with a snort. “But fifteen seasons where they end up fightingGodof all things was the height of absurdity. It should have ended at seven. By the time they reached double digits, they’d completely lost the plot.”
I sighed. “You can’t tell me the ending wasn’t impactful, you really can’t. It hit.”
“The bottom of a trash can, maybe,” he said with a wrinkle of his nose. “At the very least, they could have found a way to kill one or both off several seasons before and ended it that way. At least then we could have avoided the entire mess that the show quickly devolved into.”
“You know, I thought you said you stopped watching at the beginning of season ten. How do you even know about all that?”
“There is this wonderful invention...the internet.”
“Oh, aren’t you just the height of wit?” I asked sourly. “But you’re telling me you’re going to judge the last seasons you didn’t watch based on what...a synopsis? Where’s all your precious pathos in reading a few paragraphs per season? Where’s the ability to see the acting and feel the emotions they’re trying to show? They’re nowhere in those words, I can tell you that.”
He snatched the bag of chips I’d been eyeing and smirked when he saw my disappointed frown. “I also saw a few of the clips you were so eager to defend. That includes the final episode's last bit, and I cannot say I was moved in the slightest. However, I will give you that their performances were good. Yet even good acting cannot make up for poor writing. Even the best actors fall short if the writing is poor, but good writing can save a poor performance.”
“Absolutely not,” I said, sitting upright so I could snatch the bag of chips...unsuccessfully because the asshole jerked it out of my reach, and if I wanted them, I would have to get off the bed, which was insanely comfortable. “An excellent performance will take shitty writing to a whole new level. That human element is what makes it better.”
“And there’s no human element to writing?”
I stopped short and glared at him. “Alright, smart ass. We’ll just have to agree to disagree.”
He shot me a smug look, wiggling the bag of chips to taunt me. “That’s something people say when they know they’ve lost the debate but want to slink away with some dignity intact.”
