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“Extremely.” I use a towel to wipe away the aforementioned liquid off my hands at the same time I state, “Just like the difference between crunchy and puffy.”
“Yeah, puffy is definitely better.”
“That’s not at all what the fuck I said.” Laughing is accompanied by a headshake. “And it’s shit I would never say ‘cause crunchy is better.”
“I know those are probably the one’s mommy packed for you to go with your Lunchable but-”
“What’s a Lunchable?”
Her face suddenly shifts to one of confusion. “You don’t know what a fucking Lunchable is?!”
“Of course I know what a fuckin’ Lunchable is just like I know that crunchy Cheetos are better than puffy ones.” Playfully tossing the towel at her precedes more laughter. “Just like car movies are better than horror movies.”
She effortlessly catches the rag. “Agreed.”
“You don’t like horror movies?”
“I’ve lived horror,” Bunny less than gently reminds on a small shrug. “I prefer not to watch it.”
“Same.”
Our eyes momentarily lock in sympathetic filled silence.
Alright so I don’t know exactly what bullshit she’s lived through.
Or is living through.
Or running from.
But I know what living a nightmare feels like.
What not sleeping at night looks like.
And that was her when she got here.
But that isn’t her now.
At least…it doesn’t seem to be.
I’ve seen her get some decent zs.
Eat.
Smile.
And while I wanna know more about her, I won’t push.
I’ll wait.
Because that’s what’s best for Bunny.
That’s what’s gonna stop her from feeling like she has to keep running and hiding.
Not that I’d be above seeking.
Not in a creepy stalker way but fighting for the one you love or whatever.
Not that I love her.
