(no subject)
For a long moment, he's content to just stand there in the kitchen with her, her arms around his waist, his chin resting against the top of her head. His fingers stir through her hair and then he pulls back a little, offering her his hand again.
"C'mon," he says. "My room's just down the hall."
And it's a mess. It's a real mess, the covers rumpled from where he kicked them off earlier. He has the good grace to look embarrassed.
"Can you ignore the fact that I'm a fuckin' slob?"
"C'mon," he says. "My room's just down the hall."
And it's a mess. It's a real mess, the covers rumpled from where he kicked them off earlier. He has the good grace to look embarrassed.
"Can you ignore the fact that I'm a fuckin' slob?"