Sm_Monthly Day 4
Ami eyed her boyfriend with a suspicion, glaring at the envelope in his hand like it was a live bomb. “I told you, I’m not doing this anymore.” Her words came out snotty and pedantic, and she felt rather foolish being so afraid of a piece of paper, but… but her right arm was still covered in hives, and she was not tempting fate again.
“Ami, don’t be silly. It’s perfectly safe.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, indicating the two other envelopes - on of them still closed, the other spilling its contents all over the floor. All three pages of it - with a tilt of her head: “That’s what you said last time. And yet here I am, all red and puffy!”
Zane shrugged. “You told me that the only way to prove or disprove a theory is through experimentation. I thought that was what we were doing here?”
Pushing as far back and away from the proffered letter as she could possibly go without climbing out of the couch, Ami tried again: “I also told you I was allergic to love letters. What makes you think exposing me to them is going to cure me?”
He waved the letter around, and Ami followed its motion just in case Zane got any ideas and just tossed it at her like he had done last time. “Is it my belief that you are not allergic to love letters per se, but rather to the idea of them. If I’m correct, acclimatizing you to them should get rid of the physical symptoms.”
Ami fought the urge to snort. Of all the times to use his scientific training, Zane chose now? And darn him, he was actually making sense… White Day had always been a bad day for her. Ever since the eighth grade, when she had gotten her first love letter slipped into her shoe box, she developed an intense reaction towards them that usually left her bed-ridden or worse for days. She had managed to control it as the years went by, limiting the symptoms to poison-ivy-like hives, but still, it was very embarrassing when your boyfriend decided to be romantic and left you a love letter on your nightstand the morning of March 14th, and rather than fall into his arms declaring the reciprocation of said love, you got a skin condition instead.
There was no way she was going through it again-Zane’s possessiveness and public displays of affections had gotten rid of all but the most insistent of her would-be suitors, and those who continued trying, well, by now Ami could recognize their handwritings and stayed well away from any suspicious envelopes making their way into her locker/desk/computer.
She opened her mouth to tell him as much, when she caught sight of the eager look in his eyes. He genuinely wanted to help her, she realized, and well, truth be told, his theory wasn’t that far off.
With a sigh, she motioned for him to hand her the letter. “You’d better have some ointment ready, then. I can’t reach all the way down to my back.”
Zane smirked, a wicked glint in those green irises telling her that perhaps his intentions were not as innocent as she had first assumed. “Oh, trust me, love; I plan to reach all. The way. Down. Indeed.”
Ami blushed, and this time, it had nothing to do with the letter in her hands.