Five More Minutes | 18+ [HIATUS]

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"Out of all flavors, you just have to pick mint chocolate chip," she sighs out in disappointment.

I hunch my shoulders over my cone defensively. "Leave us alone. Mint chocolate chip is the best," I contort. My available hand pulls the door open, and I hop inside the pickup truck.

Athena, on the other hand, seems to struggle a bit. She brings a leg up and pulls herself with a subtle grunt, all while trying to keep a hold of her ice cream. "This truck is way too high up," she mumbles.

"You're just short."

She presses her back against the passenger seat and takes another lick of her ice cream. "You're barely any taller than me."

"Your forehead isn't even at my nipple."

"Left or right?"

"Huh?"

"Left or right nipple?"

I raise a brow and chuckle. She really is weird.

"Hold this for me," I say. The key twists under my fingers, and the engine comes to a loud start. I turn to see the look of confusion on her face.

"Why can't you just finish your ice cream, then drive us home?" She asks with a slight tilt of her head. Both of her hands are now occupied with ice cream cones. One with strawberry shortcake, cookies and cream, and cookie dough; and the other with mint chocolate chip, rocky road, and green tea.

Of course, mine is the one with green tea and mint chocolate chip. I'm the civilized person here.

"You ask too many questions."

"You answer very few."

Her reply makes my eyes roll.

"Maybe we're not going home," I grumble with a smirk.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She sounds unsure, almost worried.

"Don't worry about it."

Silence.

We are now out on the road, passing by the countless buildings, driving through the many narrow streets, taking turns here and there.

She takes a lick of the ice cream.

Silence.

She takes another lick of the ice cream.

Silence.

And another.

And another.

And another.

Eventually, the buildings seem to run away from each other, the narrow streets widen, and the turns become scarce. Street lights enable us to see what we need to, but the night veils itself around us.

The car comes to a halt as I park it in front of our destination. I turn my gaze to her, and her eyes meet mine with a grin.

I look down at the cones.

"Did you—"

She's quick to hand me my cone— my cone that is now topped with rocky road brown instead of the teel shade of mint.