DL: Drug
"Danny, what's your metaphor for me?"
Danny's head jerked up from the issue of Sports Illustrated he was reading to give her a dumfounded look.
"S'cuse me, what?" he asked innocently, blinking in bewilderment.
"What's your metaphor for me?" Lindsay repeated, gravely serious.
Danny's brain just couldn't seem to comprehend the question.
"Metaphor? Like you mean… some grammatical thing?" he blurted, unable to articulate his confusion.
She shut the copy of Romeo and Juliet that she was reading to jump on the sofa next to him. He was still attempting unsuccessfully to remember what metaphors were. English was never his best subject.
"Yeah, like you know… I'm the light of your life… the…" she stopped to think, "love handles on your hips."
Danny snorted and went back to reading the article on 'Ways to improve your batting average' that he was previously appraising.
"Danny, I'm serious," Lindsay said with a slight pout.
Danny snickered. "Look, Montana, I ain't no good at those kinds of things. I nearly flunked English alright?"
"I can tell by the double negative."
"Say what?"
"Nothing."
She sighed. "Come on, there must be something up there!"
"Sweetie, trust me, there's nothing in there," Danny assured, rapping his fist twice on the side of his forehead to show her.
Lindsay moaned and whined. "Aw, please? Al the greatest couples had them! Romeo had one for Juliet!!"
Danny closed his magazine again, frustrated.
"Okay, fine. You're, um…" Danny pondered, while Lindsay waited on anxiously. He stuck his tongue at the side of his mouth in deep thought.
"You're my… Heroin."
"Aw," Lindsay said, misinterpreting Heroin for heroine.
"Yup, baby. You're my drug," Danny smiled.
"Say what now?" Lindsay said unbelievably.
"You're my Heroin," Danny repeated again.
"Like the drug?" Lindsay asked, shocked.
"Yup. Now go back to your book, Montana, I'm learning how to grip my bat so perfectly that my average will be up in the six's," Danny ordered dismissively, kissing her on the side of the forehead.
Lindsay sat there, completely aghast.
"Could you tell me why on earth I should consider that a compliment from my boyfriend?" she demanded.
Danny cringed at her tone and only now realized that he had, in some subtle way, offended her greatly. He brought his guilty face back up from the magazine.
"But it's true, Montana!" he persisted.
'So you're calling me an illegal substance that comes in small bags and in various colors?" she cried angrily.
Lindsay started breathing heavily, like she couldn't inhale any satisfactory amount of oxygen.
"That is so far off from what Romeo told Juliet that it's frightening, Danny!" she cried, gripping his now outstretched hand for support.
"I mean that you're my addiction!" Danny tried to explain. "That I need doses of you night and day! That the more I get of you, the more I want and NEED! You're my heroin and I'm just another… another… addicted, helpless junkie without you," he breathed.
Lindsay looked from her Shakespeare book to Danny then back again, then she kissed him.
"If you used that metaphor in high school, you'd have gotten an A," she teased, smiling greatly and kissing him again.
Danny smiled in relief.
"So what's your metaphor for me?" he asked smoothly.
"You? You're MINE, and that's what matters."