I do not own Twilight
I look to Bella in disbelief. Whiskers in the sink? What kind of pig is this guy? I don't blame her for wanting to kill him. Cleaning up after yourself was one of the first things my father taught me when I learnt to shave. I'm sure my mother would have strung all four of us males up by the balls if the sinks weren't spotless.
"Umm...well...she used to put her shit in my side of the closet all the time?" I respond, even though it comes out more of a question. She raises her eyebrow at me, as if to say "is that the best you can do". I shrug my shoulders, not knowing what to say.
"Well I guess it's a start," she concedes. "My turn, but I need another drink. Your shout."
I remind myself to ask her later where she's from. Her accent is still confusing me, and some of the things she says sound weird. I motion for another round, then wait eagerly for her next revelation.
Tequila in hand, we down the shots at the same time. Bella shakes her head at the burn, then sucks on the lime. The action is seductive, but I'm certain she doesn't realise. It certainly wouldn't be intentional..surely she wouldn't be trying to pick up on her wedding day. I divert my attention elsewhere; she doesn't need me salivating over her.
"Douche-bag soon to be dead ex-fiancee would leave his dirty dishes in the sink, so I'd come home from work to dried cereal stuck in the bowls. Did you know that shit sticks like cement?" Her voice raises, and I can tell it's something that really annoys her.
I shake my head no. I've never not rinsed a dish to know that's what happens. Poor girl, sounds like she would have been in for a world of frustrations.