He nods, then turns, then heads to my kitchen.
I find myself unsure whether I’m supposed to get up or turn my video back on. Maybe I have my earbuds somewhere nearby? My gaze trails around my bedroom, from one cluttered nightstand to one imperceivable desk… Mm. Yeah. My earbuds are…somewhere. For sure.
At this point, does it really matter if he knows I spend my evenings watching the him from ten years ago play horror games?
I decide, no, no it does not, and start my video back up.
Several minutes pass before Kyran hands me a mug and a blown-up marshmallow, glances at my phone, and smooths my blankets across my thighs before settling in with his own mug and snack. With his head pillowed on my thigh, he rests his food on his chest and stares at the ceiling.
“Better not make my bed a sticky mess,” I warn, bringing my own mug to my lips.
Kyran’s eyes cut toward me. “I can’t believe you just said that in front of fourteen-year-old me.”
“This is from ten years ago. You’re fifteen.” I test a sip and discover lava. Okay. The hot chocolate needs a second. “Also, I don’t know how telling you not to spill your drink is inappro…” I playback the literal phrasing I used and lift my attention off fifteen-year-old Kyran to behold twenty-five-year-old Kyran.
Holding my glare, he angles the giant marshmallow toward his mouth and nibbles—picture of innocence.
I mutter, “I think you were given too much internet in your formative years.”
“Likewise. Truly does a number on an otherwise well-adjusted member of society.”
I hum. “Why has an otherwise well-adjusted member of society sought to bless me with his presence tonight? It’s later than the time you’ve been showing up. And you were streaming earlier.”
“You said you wanted me in bed with hot chocolate.”
My heart flits. “Did I?”
“Yes.”
I totally did. It was an insipid comment. A realwouldn’t it be nice to not be an adult for a little while?
It never ceases to amaze me how unexpectedly detail-oriented Kyran is. I thought I was the only one who held onto little things people say until everyone around me is annoyed that I keep bringing up something that was said three years ago and notreallymeant.
“Could you put little me down for a second and give big me some attention?” Kyran asks.
I lower my phone. “Oh, sorry.” I lock it. “Are you…” Heat unrelated to the boiling mug against my belly settles in my chest. “…staying the night?”
“If you’re willing to spin the barrel, I’ll pull the trigger.”
What a dangerous suggestion…given that I think I’d welcome a bullet to the skull right about now.
“Kyran?”
“Yes, liver?”
A laugh breaks through the heaviness weighing in my heart. “I’m trying to be serious.”
“Apologies, mistress. You can punish me later. What is it?”
I take a breath. “What’s the most inconvenient way possible to marry me?”
“Most…inconvenient? Possibly…” His gaze trails my ceiling. “…while skydiving. Or bungee jumping, actually. Skydiving is more steady. If we got out of sync with the officiator while bungee jumping, it’d be pretty inconvenient to complete our vows.”
Huffing, I lift my marshmallow and take a bite. “I mean, is there a way to marry me where it would be really difficult or impossible or life-ruining for you to divorce me?”
“We could sign a contract that would destroy me financially in the event I file. But even if you take all my assets, I don’t think there’s anything that would ultimately bother me. I’d keep creating even if you get all the money from every video I make, and I have four older brothers who would take care of me in my stupidity. Nothing’s really a failsafe for you, because I have nothing to lose except you.”
I pout.
