@EnvisionedMuse “We are not getting a second cart this time.”
A reminder. He had seen this before, had watched this movie. And he had not liked the bloody ending.
And yet, he lit that damn leather bergamot candle every night and slept on those feather soft pillow cases.
@EnvisionedMuse He gave one of those smiles, brows raising as he nodded. “I did know that —“
Then came the grimace, Derek making a noise somewhere close to a groan.
“Did not need to know that.”
@EnvisionedMuse His look turned exasperated as he glanced towards their patio area before moving opposite around the island to close the fridge as it starting beeping.
Derek swallowed, lips pressing into a line.
“. . . so we should get you some tacos?”
@EnvisionedMuse Because he’s . . him.
Eyebrows knit further, the smallest kernel of doubt nestling in his chest — something he tried to push aside and focus on her.
“I’m . . trying.”
That perplexed gaze stayed glued to her, Derek taking a breath and loosing it to hide any hint >>
@EnvisionedMuse That gentle touch fell away, Derek’s brows knitting in confusion as he tried to make sense of . . her.
“Help me out then, darling, just say what you mean.”
@EnvisionedMuse A panic fills the director’s gaze, eyes widening as he tosses the cheese and makes his way around the island — one hand finds her waist, Derek leaning down to try and get a look at her.
“It’s just cheese, Karen, I don’t —“