"Do we always have to do this?"
"Do what?"
Kane and I were sitting on the sofa in the living room, sort of... I'll explain later. It's all me and him ever seem to do, I think that's why he's complaining; he's a grumpy twit like that.
"Don't make me sit here and explain this to you girl."
I swear I do this just to see how far he goes.
"Shut up. You're going senial in your old age."
"Annoying twit; if you put less effort into swearing at me and more into these 'highly exciting' days we have together I might actually not want to kill you. I'm talking about us sitting here, staring at the TV, pretending to tolerate each other, whilst I sit here wondering why I'm sitting here and you are trying to figure out some way of pushing my buttons to the point where I leave...*sighs* and you end up nicking the TV that we're currently staring at. Get it?"
"Run me through that one again..."
I'm not going to bore you with the details of how Kane and I ended up sitting on a sofa together, but basically... Kane was woken up at 7.00am by my alarm whilst I slept right through it. He screamed I was lazy, I told him to go away, and then we proceeded to hit each other with whatever was closest, mainly pillows and the occasional book. Which is how he ended up upside down on our sofa, with my feet resting on his chest, arguing about staring at the TV.
Oh great, the phone's ringing.
"Kane, get it."
"Baby girl, get it."
"You're closer."
"You're the right way up."
"You apparently own this house."
"You apparently get the privilege of living in it."
The phone stopped ringing.
"What were we doing again?"
"You were asking me why we always had to do this."
"Do what?"