“Close, but no. If we die, that’s very inconvenient for them. If we hook up, that’s both inconvenient and awkward for them.” I’m pretty sure all my organs stop functioning. “What—” “When I say we, I obviously don’t mean—us,” he clarifies, and despite the taunting note in his voice, his cheeks turn red. He’s blushing, I realize. It’s so bizarre. So unlike him. It’s a visible weakness, and I quietly file it away for later use.
LOOOLLLL
