Superficial (DE)

Forty-two.

"Why did you have to kiss me?— huh?" Cerise questioned.

"You came all this way to yell at me?" He asked calmly.

Cerise twisted her lips to the side as she stared at him through hazy eyes. She'd never seen him shirtless before— she never realized just how many tattoos he had, he was covered. His body
was toned and muscular but not too much.

"T-this is the part where you kiss me and tell me to shut up," She said with a pout dropping her hands at her side dramatically.

Brandon chuckled, leaning up against the wall. "What happened to that was unethical?" He asked smartly.

Cerise narrowed her big brown eyes at him before softening her fiery glare. "What if I want to be unethical," She asked sheepishly.

Brandon smiled small, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth before grabbing Cerise by the chin and pulling her gently to him— she put up no fight.

Brandon twisted the paper wrapper off his straw, plunging it into his glass of ice water. The cold condensation encompassing the glass sent a faint, frigid chill through the palm of his tattooed hand and up his arm as he picked it up and brought it to his lips.

Cerise sat in the seat across from him, staring out of the window to her left, not a single thought behind those brown eyes as she watched people pass. A silence blanketed the table as Brandon watched her quietly, waiting for their food to be brought to the table. "What are you thinking about?" Brandon asked, setting his glass down gently.

Cerise took a second to react, peeling her gaze away from the window and placing her attention on him. "Nothing," she answered simply because she really wasn't thinking about anything. Her mind had been in a state of numbness recently, perhaps to protect itself from the damage of the intense emotion that had been plaguing her mental.

They stared at one another with shared, oddly complacent expressions.

"How did we get this way?" Brandon asked after a moment, his tone gentle. His bushy brows furrowed some, memories of the beginning flooding his mind and tugging his heart down until it felt as though it rested in the pit of his stomach.

A feeling of unfamiliarity sat amongst them at the table, like a stranger had joined them for lunch. Though they were back cordial and on speaking terms it still felt as though a divide continued to separate them— a mile long distance though they sat only a foot apart.

"Because I act off impulse," she admitted in a whisper, truthfully. "And I don't think of the consequences before I do and say things,"

For the first time, Cerise had finally taken some responsibility. Brandon nodded curtly, letting out a heavy exhale. His dark orbs still exuded an unyieldingly love for her, doting and forgiving. "What am I going to do with you Cerise?" He asked rhetorically making her smile somberly.
"If all goes well next week I want you to move your things into my home. I will get an extra key made for you and we can pick out a room for the baby,"

A lump formed in her throat, her chest getting tight with anxiety. Next week.

"And if it doesn't?" She questioned.

"Then we will follow through with what we've already discussed," he answered calmly.

Cerise chewed on the inside of her bottom lip as they stared at one another. "I don't want to co-parent in the same home as you Brandon," she said stubbornly. "I'd rather do this separately—,"