Fiction 39

“I love your cuddles. I don’t feel like letting go.”

“I could do this all night.” he smiles.

“You know something? My ex hated to cuddle up.”

“His loss.” he says, softly. “One has to be a retard to let this go.”

“Don’t you want to go to sleep?”

“I’ll sleep when I want to.”

“No, you’ll sleep now, because you need your sleep as much as I do.” she admonishes.

“No one has ever spoken to me in that tone, you know.”

“Well then, get used to it. I’ll always speak this way.”

“Sing me a song.”

“I don’t sing. Do you really want donkeys to come running to your door at this time of the night?”

“You talk  like you bloody sing! And you expect me to believe you can’t hold a tune?”

“Remember – you signed your death wish.”

And she hums an all too familiar tune.

“Wow!” he grins. “That’s lovely. Who told you you couldn’t sing?”

“Err. Only the whole wide world.”

“Well, they’re all wrong.”

“No they aren’t.  You’re just biased because you loooouuuve me.”

“Love, my ass.”

“Yes, I love your ass and every other part of you. Now go. to. sleep.” she says, half-heartedly. Because she too, could talk all night.


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