Overkill // Joseph Quinn

38

London, Day 1

"So, you're telling me that they have better pizza?"

Joseph pulls me gently by my hand along the street. Supposedly toward a pizza place better than the one in L.A. He's been swearing by it since before we got here.

"You just have to trust me, love." He smiles and backs up to walk beside me, kissing my cheek.

I roll my eyes and see the place come into view. With the weather growing colder we decide to eat inside. The environment is really calming, but it still doesn't impress me more than L.A.

"What's your favorite?" I ask, looking up at the menu on the wall.

He stands with his feet centered with his shoulders, arms crossed. He looks more focused than ever which makes me laugh.

"I'm thinking a supreme. They don't sell individual slices like the other place, but we can take some back." He walks up to the order and motions me to take a seat at a booth.

I've avoided my phone since last night. I know Jo hasn't said anything more, but I'd rather not find out if he has. It was dumb of me to even reassure him of the "pact" we made. The progress has shown that it will go as planned and we won't need a pact anymore, so I'm not worried about it.

"I got you water. You haven't really drank any since we got here." He places the bottle in front of me and I pop open the cap.

He was right. I haven't hydrated from the fact that I've simply had my mind on other things.

I have this feeling that Joseph's going to make things official during our trip. I've also thought about doing it myself, but I don't see myself ever doing something like that. I'm all for women making the first move but I feel like I've made all the first moves up to this point. I have confidence that he'll step up.

Eventually.

"Order number 37!" The guy from the front announces.

Joseph looks at his receipt and gets up to get our food. I'm excited to give this place a chance, but I can't let Joseph win.

"Knock yourself out."

The tray is now sat in front of me, making my mouth salivate.

Not only have I not been hydrating, I've barely ate anything.

I slap a piece onto my plate and take another sip of water. His eyes are laid on my every movement for when I take the first bite.

"You don't even have a piece on your plate yet." I point out. All I get is a shrug in response.

I shake my head and pick up the piece, taking a small bite out of it. I can feel my face instantly turn when I chew into a certain texture that I despise.

"What's wrong with it?" His arms reach over the table dramatically like its the end of the world.

"Is there mushrooms on this?" I speak with disgust. I forcefully swallow the piece to avoid spitting it out.

He sighs and cuts out a slice of his own, immediately taking a bite of it.

"I never expected you to be a fussy eater." He complains with a mouth full.

I place a hand on my chest and gasp dramatically. I do feel kind of offended though.

"To be fair, mushrooms are the only food I won't eat." I defend myself.

We each get our own fill of the pizza, me picking off the mushrooms and putting them on his plate along the way. He doesn't fail to leave a sarcastic comment with every mushroom I pick off.