"You bastard." He just grinned and played another part of the song. I couldn't help it but stare at him as he did that. His eyes glittered and he stopped playing.
"Weeell?"
"Don't you ''weeell'' me. You fucking idiot."
"Oh, come on. Don't be like that." He put the guitar down on the floor and reached out with his arms.
"Can I get a hug?"
"No." He pouted.
"Meanie."
"Get over it," I snarled back. Not like I was in a bad mood or anything. It just annoyed the hell out of me that he knew how to make me go all soft and that shit. And I don't like that. I firmly decided that I won't let him get his way. But I forgot (stupid me) that this bastard is smart. As. Hell.
"I'll show your parents the pictures." I froze.
"You will not."
"Try me."
"You're sick."
"I know, hun. Aaand?"
"You'll get your fucking hug, you psycho." He laughed and huged me tight.
"I knew it."
"Shut up or I'll push you down the stairs."
"Cool, I always wanted to have flying lessons."
"You have serious problems."
"One more reason to have you with me."
"What the fu..."