A beat of a second passed before he slowly pulled away from me, the suffocating heat withdrawing with him as he straightened up. My eyes lifted to meet his as he released his hold on my knife, and I flicked my wrist, flipping it with ease so my hand...
Question. What's your current battery life? (I'm living wild at 43%)
Let's play a game of find the movie/tv series ref. Winner gets a bowl of cabbage soup cooked by Heath *inserts a spoiler casually*
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^ Not a fan of vegetables but that cabbage soup right there looks aesthetic and delicious af.
Especially when the cook looks like this (I think I might have discovered a new talent in photo editing lmfao)
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He could hit me up with that wooden spoon anytime.
p.s. I'm not really satisfied with this chapter but yall have waited long enough so I'll work my cute butt off to write an amazebeans af next chapter aight (;
✡ Five ✡
"You want me," I repeated as I slowly leaned back in my seat, feeling the earlier buzz of excitement screeching to a halt in my veins, "to steal a picture frame for you."
Heath only reclined in his seat, watching me through those dark-lashed eyes, the gold in them flickering like a candlelight against the darkness.
The bastard was as good looking as he was humourless.
And he was very, very lacking in humour.
There was a moment of stretched silence that hung in the air between us, then I shattered it by saying, "I would rather steal a cabbage."
Heath leaned his head back against the headrest, his eyelashes lowering as he rested the heavy weight of his gaze on me. "What do you want?"
He may be a joyless bastard, but an idiot he definitely wasn't.
I had thought long and hard last night when I should have been fast asleep, which was why when I hummed in thought, I already had what I wanted in mind. When I tapped my chin three, practiced times, I did it to drag out the time.
