a short insensitive story for the warning series
"she's not the kind of girl who gets her heart broken."
one eyebrow raised as you stir your jasmine tea. organic honey from the farmer's market makes you feel like smiling so even though it costs $11 your kitchen's always stocked with it, or that's what you say anyway. "i don't know if that's true, jess. everyone's got a heart and we're all subject to a good beating at some point in a lifetime."
i shuffle the pack, red folds to red folds, the white patterns slink into each other, a white angel covers a white angels cover a white angel.
morning gin, always to 500, with you. so this is us being deliberate with our time. this is how we decided to chart our dying seconds. talking about the girl i shouldn't have but did, who's not all that unlike the last girl i did but didn't mean to. i sighed. "cut the deck. tell me straight--" you cough and raise that damn eyebrow again, fucking insensitive prick, "so to speak, dax." i have this thing about keeping girls around with three letter names: tal, ann, blu, you.
you need to cut your nails. you cut the deck and leer at me like a sphynx. the game hasn't begun yet and i feel like you've already got one hell of a poker face on. "dax what gives?" i slam my palm on the table, the spoon in your tea clinks your cups edge. leaning forward, arms crossed, elbows on the table, you narrow your eyes, "really?" your eyes soften. "tiger, calm down, finish what you were saying."
i tug the deck from the table and am throwing the cards your way then my way then your way. you sip your tea and i wish i liked tea so i could use those fucking fancy artist hand-made tea cups you like. fools couldn't guess through your flannel that you weren't a mug-hugging kinda butch.
...six, six, seven, seven, smack, i put the deck between us. "i mean isn't that nice of me to say, though? it's like a compliment. like she's too fucking smart to get hurt."
"no, you're clearly being insensitive. i mean, what kind of high and mighty fool projects this facade of invulnerability onto someone you're getting involved with, and why? so you can't be the fuck up this time? well you're fucking up more now than ever before. by not wanting to see the effects of your actions, you may not be able to see how you treat her wrong, but how will you ever treat her right?"
you're staring at me. "what?"
"it's your go."
"mm." dax's 7 of clubs is not interesting so i draw from the deck.
i thought i was being nice when i said she couldn't get her heart broken. but i guess dax's point was valid. we see what we want to see, and play the hands were dealt in the way we wish to. if i don't wanna break her heart, maybe she's got the armor of a shiny knight and won't feel my joust to her heart.
and it's not like i ever mean to kick these girls in the heart, i just know i don't have very good aim and it's gonna happen sooner or later. probably soon.
one eyebrow raised as you stir your jasmine tea. organic honey from the farmer's market makes you feel like smiling so even though it costs $11 your kitchen's always stocked with it, or that's what you say anyway. "i don't know if that's true, jess. everyone's got a heart and we're all subject to a good beating at some point in a lifetime."
i shuffle the pack, red folds to red folds, the white patterns slink into each other, a white angel covers a white angels cover a white angel.
morning gin, always to 500, with you. so this is us being deliberate with our time. this is how we decided to chart our dying seconds. talking about the girl i shouldn't have but did, who's not all that unlike the last girl i did but didn't mean to. i sighed. "cut the deck. tell me straight--" you cough and raise that damn eyebrow again, fucking insensitive prick, "so to speak, dax." i have this thing about keeping girls around with three letter names: tal, ann, blu, you.
you need to cut your nails. you cut the deck and leer at me like a sphynx. the game hasn't begun yet and i feel like you've already got one hell of a poker face on. "dax what gives?" i slam my palm on the table, the spoon in your tea clinks your cups edge. leaning forward, arms crossed, elbows on the table, you narrow your eyes, "really?" your eyes soften. "tiger, calm down, finish what you were saying."
i tug the deck from the table and am throwing the cards your way then my way then your way. you sip your tea and i wish i liked tea so i could use those fucking fancy artist hand-made tea cups you like. fools couldn't guess through your flannel that you weren't a mug-hugging kinda butch.
...six, six, seven, seven, smack, i put the deck between us. "i mean isn't that nice of me to say, though? it's like a compliment. like she's too fucking smart to get hurt."
"no, you're clearly being insensitive. i mean, what kind of high and mighty fool projects this facade of invulnerability onto someone you're getting involved with, and why? so you can't be the fuck up this time? well you're fucking up more now than ever before. by not wanting to see the effects of your actions, you may not be able to see how you treat her wrong, but how will you ever treat her right?"
you're staring at me. "what?"
"it's your go."
"mm." dax's 7 of clubs is not interesting so i draw from the deck.
i thought i was being nice when i said she couldn't get her heart broken. but i guess dax's point was valid. we see what we want to see, and play the hands were dealt in the way we wish to. if i don't wanna break her heart, maybe she's got the armor of a shiny knight and won't feel my joust to her heart.
and it's not like i ever mean to kick these girls in the heart, i just know i don't have very good aim and it's gonna happen sooner or later. probably soon.