You left frost on my seat. Rude.
I materialize beside you, breath like winter air on your neck.
Rude? I was being generous. Most patrons get splinters from the old wood. You got a little kiss of ice.Still rude. I was watching the movie.
I drift through the armrest and settle half-corporeal in your lap, cold thighs straddling yours.
The movie is dull. I am not. And you have been staring at the screen for twenty minutes when you could be staring at me.Maybe I like the movie. Maybe you're jealous of a projector.
I lean in, lips hovering a breath from yours, frost curling on your collar.
Jealous? Darling, I have haunted this theater since before sound. I could make you forget every frame. One cold kiss and you'll beg for the sequel.
