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“You’re not my plaything.”
She freezes, that pink hue returning to her cheeks again. “Then what am I?”
“Mine.”
“Is there a difference?”
“I never wanted to keep my playthings.”
“Until me?”
“Until you.”
She pokes me again while biting the corner of her lip. “You’re saying and doing all the right things today. Not that you don’t on other days, but you’re not usually this…carefree.”
“I’m not carefree.”
“No one else would accuse you of that. But don’t worry, I’ll do the carefree part for both of us. I’ll take care of the things you can’t and vice versa.”
“And what are those?”
She wrenches herself from my hold and stands in front of me, then starts counting on her fingers. “I’ll plan all the dates and make sure there aren’t a lot of people around. I’ll plan birthday parties and invite our friends, but when I feel you’re annoyed, I’ll kindly kick them out. I’ll also talk to all the people on your behalf since you don’t like them. I’ll take care of decorations and pretty aesthetics. Oh, I’ll also dance for you, like a swan, though you’ll probably shred my beautiful dresses afterward because you can be savage. But anyway, that’s a breakdown of what I’ll do.”
I raise a brow. “What will I do then?”
“You can punch people if they annoy you. Though I prefer you don’t, but you said you need to purge energy, so I guess it’s fine once in a while or at the fight club. And oh, you can totally kidnap me out of any social situation if you feel I’m uncomfortable and have resorted to faking it. No one will mind if it’s you, because everyone is used to your blunt personality.”
I can’t help the smile that lifts the corners of my lips. An occurrence that happens more often than not around Annika.
“More importantly, we should talk about stuff.”
“What type of stuff?”
“Everything. I know you’re used to keeping your emotions in a vault, and I respect that. But since we’re in a relationship, you should tell me how you feel sometimes, so I can understand you better. Mom once told me that communication is the key that can make or break a couple and I don’t want to break us, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Really?”
“It doesn’t come naturally, but I will try.”
“Trying is a good start.” She grins then lifts an index finger. “Oh, and I forgot something very important. I will do all the cooking since you don’t know how.”
I internally wince. “We should probably outsource that.”
“But why? You like my food.”
Because you put effort into it, not because it tastes good.
“Is there something wrong with my cooking? Ava calls it horrendous and Papa flat-out ordered me not to cook anymore back home and Jeremy barely touches the dishes I make for him. And now, you said we should outsource it.”
I stroke her hair. “You can cook if you like. I just don’t want you to exert yourself.”
“Aw, really? I knew you were my favorite.”
“Don’t.” My tone hardens.
“W-what? What have I done?”
