Fiction 114

 

“Do you know how incredibly happy, you make me, when you eat?” he smiles as she gulps down one more scoop of mashed potato. “You make an incredible mess, when you do, but it’s such a pleasure just watching you eat.”

“What is there to be happy about that?” she asks, her mouth half-full.

“Didn’t your mother tell you not to talk while you eat?”

“She did. Do I look like a person who listens?”

“You do. That’s the worst part. But you’re not a person who listens. You’re not one of them, sheep. You’re a wolf. That’s what I like about you.”

“You just told me that I eat like a pig and I look like a sheep in a wolf’s clothing. What is up next? Calling me an ostrich?”

“No you’d never be an ostrich. Ostriches are tall!” he laughs.

“That was mean.” she says, her lower lip fake-quivering.

“Don’t try your drama with me. I know when you’re really crying. But let me tell you why you can never be an ostrich. An ostrich’s brain is smaller than any of it’s eyeballs. But yours, my love is bigger than a thousand of normal ones put together.”

“And again, yet again, you manage to render me speechless.” she smiles as she traces his lips with hers.

 

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