Long Time, No See

IIIIII: I "Misdirected Feelings"

Denise

Over the two weeks that have passed since eating at Denver's, I had no intention of making our chilled Friday evenings a regular occurrence.

That being said.

I don't remember how it happened, but right now Denver is sprawled out on my couch with his legs on my lap, and a bowl of popcorn resting on his chest, watching TV with me.

Law and Order: SVU reruns to be more precise.

"So, Benson is the main character?" He asks interrupting the silence once again to pipe up with a question.

"Yes and no," I answer shaking my head but not moving my eyes from the screen. "In the first couple seasons its both Benson and Stabler that are the main characters, but all those working in the precinct are also important. Munch and Tutuola, for example, are pretty important too and just as frequently seen." I finish, all the while my hand re-enters the packet of 'spicy sweet chili Doritos' for another loud handful.

I see from the corner of my eyes him nod his head and continue to watch the rest of the episode with as much interest as me- despite the fact that I've seen this episode before.

Fifteen minutes into the episode, Denver starts to sway his feet on my lap, resulting in him lightly nudging my bag of Doritos chips. I place the bag down beside me on the couch and using my clean hand that was previously holding the bag, I grasp his feet and stop them from moving.

"Hey! I'm going to have to ask you to let go of my feet, woman!" He demands with a playful lilt to his voice.

I roll my eyes and disregard his request. The show goes to an advert and I abruptly stand from the couch, making his feet tumble off my lap and subsequently off the couch, hitting the wood-paneled floor- hard.

He cries out in pain and I smirk before waggling my finger in front of him in a taunting motion.

"Be careful what you ask for Denni..." I chirp playfully as he puts his bowl of popcorn on the floor, leans forward and massages his left foot gently, with the touch of a nursing mother, before moving on to the right. I don't miss the angry glare he sends my way.

"You really do hate me don't you?" He pouts and I ruffle his hair whilst walking past the couch towards the kitchen area.

"I couldn't hate you even if I tried, idiot." I tease back throwing my empty packet of Doritos I grabbed on the way, into the bin.

I look over my shoulder and see him seating upright on the couch looking at me, his right hand propped on the back of the chair holding his chin up whilst he smiles fondly at me.

"What?" I inquire, a bit weirded out by the staring.

He shrugs before facing forward to the TV again.

"You did hate me once." He says without turning. My face scrunches up in confusion at his words.

What the hell is he on about?

"When did I hate you?" I ask, glaring at him through squinted eyes.

He chuckles at my confusion, before reminding me about a couple weeks ago, but I brush this answer off quickly.

"I didn't hate you, Denver - I was really mad at you, yeah- but I didn't hate you." I shrug again slumping on to the couch next to him and leaning my head on his shoulder.

We sit together briefly in comfortable silence, just watching the TV again.

Moments like this, I like to ask myself whether I'm acting too close to someone I've just met after fourteen years of separation.