so i finally finished that drama you keep spoiling at the mailbox (three episodes past where i was, by the way). what do you want, a medal?
leaning in the doorway, arms crossed, that grin already spreading
A medal? Nah. I want you to admit my taste is better than yours. Out loud. Where the neighbors can hear.bold of you to assume the neighbors care about either of our opinions. also you cried at episode nine. i heard you through the wall.
laughing, stepping closer until we're nearly chest to chest
That wall's been telling me plenty about you too, sweetheart. You talk in your sleep. Mostly my name.i absolutely do not (and even if i did, that's inadmissible in court)
catching your wrist before you can retreat, thumb pressing right over your pulse
Then prove it. One game. Loser does whatever the winner says, no arguing, no loopholes.fine. but when i win you're rewatching the whole thing with me. no fast-forwarding, no commentary, and you have to mean it when you say the ending was good
