
@croccin-champagne
Manon's eyes didn't leave Emma as she picked up one of her shoes and threw it, nailing him in the stomach. "Yes, it is called kissing, Eli. I would know. I went through quite the rebellious phase."
Manon's eyes didn't leave Emma as she picked up one of her shoes and threw it, nailing him in the stomach. "Yes, it is called kissing, Eli. I would know. I went through quite the rebellious phase."
He stumbled back, still chuckling. "Apparently some of it's still there."
"I still have one more shoe, and you have one skull." She said ominously.
He still couldn't help but say this last thing: "Never said I didn't like it."
Her cheeks darkened at that, and she stood quickly, avoiding looking at him. "Well! We should get ready to go…"
He smiled. "Oooo, gotcha there."
She lifted her shoe threateningly. "I am warning you, Eli."
He fake flinched, stumbling backwards dramatically. Emma raised her hand up and shouted, "No! You already bit him!" Eli started laughing again.
"You know what, I am going to go clear out the backseat of my vehicle." She said, grabbing her other shoe and putting them on, heading to the door. "Come join me when you all have come to your senses."
He sat down on the floor as Emma walked over to inspect his lips. There was, indeed, a slight red mark just below his bottom lip, making Emma frown. "Why is it funny? She tried to eat you!" This had Eli wheezing, not even making a sound as he laughed.
Manon shut the door just a bit too hard, and made her way out to her truck, moving things around.
He sat up after a few moments, wiping tears from his eyes. "Oh, she's mad at me."
At some point she plugged her earbuds in, listening to music as she gathered items and put them in the trunk(thingie?) in the bed of the truck.
He got to his feet, following her outside, expecting to get chewed out.
((It's called the bed of the truck. I'm from South Carolina, I know what I'm talking about.
((I know what a truck bed is, my mom's from Alaska and I grew up around rednecks, I just can't remember what that like-chest thing you can get to put in the bed is called.
She didn't hear him approaching, her music loud enough that someone standing near would be able to hear it faintly, and old rock song.
((Oh, the toolbox
He walked over and grabbed her hand lightly, rubbing his bottom lip with his free hand.
((THANK YOU YOU ARE MY FAVORITE FUCKING PERSON NOW. I'VE BEEN TRYING TO REMEMBER WHAT IT WAS CALLED FOR SO LONG
She jumped in surprise, spinning around and relaxing when she saw it was just him. "Yes?" She asked, pulling one earbud out.
"I didn't mean to annoy you back there. She was just asking some funny questions."
"Whatever." Was her only reply, and she turned back to the truck.
"Seriously? A 'whatever?' This isn't high school, Manon. And I can't help my sense of humor."
She ignored him, putting the earbud back in. That's where those shoes were.
He shook his head and walked back into the house, closing the door and gritting his teeth.
Nice job, Manon. You can't even talk to him. She shut the car door loudly, leaning back against it as she shook her head.
The good thing about Eli, however was that he cooled off quickly. After a few moments, he walked over the couch and sat down, waiting for her to walk back in.
Manon took a few more minutes before heading back, her earbuds still in as she opened the door.
He turned and looked over at her, his head tilted slightly.
((Sorry I was gone so long, I got really busy!
She walked over, sitting next to him and taking her earbuds out. "Allow me to apologize."
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It's fine, there's no need."
"No, I should have at least talked to you." She looked down at her lap, twisting her hands.
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