Another first day

Ch.7.21.Questions.

"How about... Twenty-one questions?" My lips pull up, amused by the choice, so juvenile, so not something two people in their twenties should be participating in. I am curious about him, I know very little about the man in front of me, besides his personality, and his habitual quirks, all of which I find adorable.

"Really, what are we, teenagers?" He looks wounded, the expression making me feel bad, and I pat his leg, drawing his eyes back up to mine. "You go first." He perks up quickly, pouring the last of his fries into his mouth, tossing his trash back into the bag before leaning back on his hands, thinking up his first question.

"What's your favorite color?" I suppress my smile, trying not to upset him, finishing up the half-chewed fry in my mouth before I respond, eyes following his hand as it grabs my empty piece of foil, tossing it lightly into our makeshift trash bag.

"Green." I take my last couple fries, picking up the bag and putting my fry container inside before it's snatched away from me, walked over to the trash can by my sweet partner. When he settles himself back down he's closer, his knees touching mine, his hands splayed over his thighs, pressing into the tight fabric. "Cats or dogs?" He looks taken aback by my question, cocking his head curiously to the side.

"You don't want to know my favorite color?" He looks offended, a hand pressing to the underneath side of his jaw, elbow pressed just above his knee, his back slightly hunched.

"I already know yours, Leon." He narrows his eyes at me, and I smile, his expression cute, not having his desired effect.

"No way. I never told you." His suspicion is amusing, considering his obvious affinity for navy.

"Navy blue. Now, cats or dogs?" I lean my head on my hand as well, meeting his surprised look with a smirk, happy to have caught him off guard. His free arm rests over his leg, his fingers playing with the hem of my sweats, the casual touch enough to give me chills, excited at the sight of his skilled fingers twirling the fabric.

"Used to be dogs, but..." Memories of the dogs in raccoon city come to mind, their rotted skin, milky white eyes, their unwavering aggression. "I like cats now, since they can't, y'know, rip my throat out." He laughs dryly, looking somewhat embarrassed, his fear irrational, but I understand, I'm not sure how trusting I can be of dogs now either. "What's... your favorite thing to do?" He looks up, fingers pausing their fidgeting as he waits on my answer, looking quite intense. I decide against the cheeky "You, hopefully" that comes to mind, deciding it would be much too forward

"Hiking, probably. What's yours?" I lean further forward, anticipating his answer, swallowing thickly when his eyes flit to my lips before trailing back up toward my eyes.

"Uh, I like... movies?" He says it like it's a question, and my brows pull together, confused by his unsure response.

"Yeah? What kind-"

"Hey, it's my turn." I give a fake annoyed look, watching a small smile pull at his lips before he asks his next question. It goes on like that for a little while, questions thrown back and forth, becoming increasingly intrusive, more suggestive, until I decide to test my luck, my eighteenth question much more risky than any of the former.

"Favorite position?" His mouth pops open, wide eyes shooting off to the side, the playful back and forth we had going broken, his cheeks flaming.

"I... Don't have one." I look at him suspiciously, not at all believing him, and determined to find out the truth.

"Everyone has one. Come on, tell me!" I grab onto the sides of his face, forcing his eyes up to mine, peering earnestly into his face, quietly bullying him into giving me what I want.