Life in the Shadows

25.

So, after Jack left, Gilinsky and I were the only ones left in his quiet apartment.

"Chinese for dinner sound okay?" he asks, picking up a takeout menu and examining it.

"Yeah, sounds great, actually," I respond, smiling at the thought of sesame chicken and some rice.

"Cool. The usual?" He asks, probably knowing the answer.

"Yep,"

"It's a good thing you're predictable," he muses, "I don't know how I'd be able to keep up with you, if you'd always change your mind,"

From the look on my face, he can tell I'm somewhat offended.

"It's not a bad thing, Mags," he chuckles. "It's just nice to know that something isn't going to change."

"Maybe one day, I'll do a complete 360 on you," I laugh. "That'll keep you on your toes,"

"That's almost as bad as making teenagers read Shakespeare," he groans.

"Hey," I swat his arm, "don't insult the greatest and most intelligent human to ever live,"

"I'm not; I'm just saying I hate his writing,"

"That's basically saying the same thing,"

"Well, it's not my fault I got confused,"

"Well, it's not his fault he basically evolved the English language,"

He freezes, knowing I've got him.

"I'll order the food," he murmurs, clearly defeated.

"Thanks," I kiss his cheek. "Teen Wolf is on tonight, so I hope you don't plan on using the TV,"

"Seriously?" he huffs. "Criminal Minds is on, though,"

"It's Thursday, G. It was on last night," I laugh.

"I missed it?" he asks, and I nod. "Fuck,"

"Sorry." I walk into the living room, and plop down on the couch.

I look around the room, my eyes lazily drooping and studying the room.

"Food's ordered, and should be here in about a half hour,"

"Okay," I smile, and he plops himself down on the couch.

After a few minutes into the episode, my stomach growls.

"Hungry?" he chuckles.

"Yeah, I wouldn't be, if someone didn't eat my sandwich,"

"To be fair, it was a really kickass sandwich,"

"I know, because I'm perfect, and I made it."

"I guess so," he murmurs, and as he begins to get comfortable, the doorbell rings.

"The universe is plotting against me!" he groans and gets up, trudging towards the door.

"Get over it!"

He comes in with a paper bag, and raises his eyebrows.

"Wanna say that again?"

"Get. Over. It."

"I will, don't you worry," he smirks. He grabs his two white cartons of food out, and puts mine on top of the bookshelf; which almost touches the ceiling.

"That is the rudest thing ever!" I shriek, jumping to try and reach it, but I don't even come close.

"Too bad you're not eating right now, this food is so good," he taunts.