The Gallagher twins

~• 15 •~

During and after the dinner I talked a lot with Ryan. His topics of conversation were not boring and very funny. And by entertaining and funny I mean he was telling me about reading books.

—You reading? I don't believe it even coming from an alternative reality.

Ryan grimaced at me, feigning disgust. We were sitting on the couch in the living room. Aidan was watching us from the kitchen, I think he was still a bit annoyed about the pasta, or why was he looking at us in that... scrutinizing way?

—Yes, but I'm only interested in novels with erotica in them.

Man he had to be. It was going so well. They always give everything a touch of morbidity. I proceed to disguise the fact that I don't like the muscular guys I see on Instagram.

—Are you not interested in horror?

—No.

—Science fiction? —I raised my left eyebrow.

He shook his head, like a little boy. Aidan's gaze never left us, and even though he was a considerable distance away, it pierced me like a dagger. On the one hand it made me strange and uncomfortable, but on the other so vulnerable and domineering. His eyes cried out to me with great intensity.

—Suspense? —I sputtered as I tried not to stutter— Mystery? The classics?

He moved his index finger from right to left.

—Romance? —I sounded exasperated. I was looking back and forth between Ryan and his twin. Every time I looked at them it was the same image, the only thing that changed was the expression: one was looking at me with a small smile, patient; the other was observing me, not taking his eyes off me, and he had a strange gleam in his eyes that conveyed an indecipherable feeling.

How poetic I get sometimes....

—Yes —I smiled, relieved, because I was getting tired of giving him options—. Yes, I like erotic romance.

—No, no, no, no. I'm talking about real romance, where they love each other without knowing why, where they enjoy being together, where there's no toxicity, where the characters see each other and their eyes sparkle —that last reminded me of Aidan, who, by the way, was still being nosy—. Not those trashy stories where they say "I love you" or "You're so fucking perfect" before they stick their pe...

—Well, let's leave it at that —he stopped me and laughed as if he were a pubescent boy who had never heard the word "penis" before—. First of all, that perfect romance —and he made a quotation mark with his fingers— you mentioned, doesn't exist. It's not all glitter and flowers. Commitment is a tragedy. Second, sex is more pleasurable than holding hands and promising eternal love.

You cut me deep, Shrek, you cut me real deep just now. And being the inveterate corny I am, I couldn't let him denigrate my race.

—You speak that way because you haven't experienced true love. You have that alpha male mentality that doesn't need affection and tenderness. You think carnal pleasure and desire is better, but it's not. And I don't care how much time is left, but a girl is going to come along and she's going to shake you up. You won't recognise yourself and you're going to remember me, Ryan Gallagher —and a devilish laugh escaped me.

—I hope the girl's trip is delayed —I almost pulled his ear—. I wouldn't want to live tied to one person, freedom is so much better.

—Did you at least give yourself a chance to try? Or were you just being prejudiced? I bet my college fund that there's like five girls you drive crazy, but you because of your... ignorance —not to say stupidity, idiocy, imbecility, etc— you focus on satisfying your physiological needs.