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Summary
"If you break into my house we can’t pretend that you’re my ex-lover who keeps picking fights with me but can’t help crawling back anyway.”
Etho rolls his eyes. “I’m not the one picking the fights.”
“Bdubs picks most of them for you.”
Etho ignores her, doesn’t even turn to face her: he’s messing with his hands, shoulders drawn up near his ears, so she’s not super surprised when the next thing that fights its way to her ears after a hanging pause is: “We could still pretend that, right?”
She had been hoping, Cleo realizes. Funny that she didn’t know this was where it was going: she thought Bdubs would be here, at least. But now Etho’s a warm shadow at the foot of her cold bed, and the server is quiet under the heavy blanket of night. She shivers.
“Yeah, we can do that. Let’s do that.”
Series
- Part 3 of Limited Life Flash Fics