“What?” he asked incredulously. “I’m sorry I didn’t love you better,” I repeated. He hesitated, before responding with a somewhat indifferent “OK.” “OK?” I shot back, before adding tongue-in-cheek, “You’re supposed to say I couldn’t love you any better.” Kit paused again before letting out a sly, slightly cunty “OK.” I smiled. And we fell off to sleep.
Once again, Kit's priority is always himself and his games and jabs. Read the signs dude. He was not the saint or loveable rapscallion you keep telling people he is.
