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Lachlan: Fuck. I’m dealing with something. Wait for me.
Dealing with somethingis code for beating the crap out of someone. I picture him holding a man by the throat with one hand and dictating into his phone about a fancy party with the other.
Me: I’ll be all right walking two blocks myself.
Lachlan: I said, wait for me.
Me: I SAID, I can do this. You’re working. I’ll text you when I get to the store.
Lachlan: …
Me: I may be small, but I’m fast.
Lachlan: …
Me: I can leap over someone.
Lachlan: …
Me: And scream pretty loudly. I’ll be fine. I promise.
Lachlan: Aye. Use the credit card I gave you.
I feel like something shifted, and he trusts my judgment.
Lachlan: I want photos from the store.
Me: I said I’ll text you.
Lachlan: I want photos of the dress.
Me: Any requests? Long or short?
Lachlan: Short.
Me: Easy access or challenging?
Lachlan: In between. I like a challenge, but not to the point, I’m tearing it by the seams.
Me: Are you sure?
Lachlan: No, actually I’m not. In fact, not too short either. You’re mine. No one sees what’s mine.
Me: I don’t want anyone to see me the way you do.
Lachlan: …
This may get too deep and dirty, and I have another dance set to run through, but I can’t stop.
Me: Panties or no panties?
Lachlan: Fuck, I think I just killed this guy…
It’s bizarre, but I laugh.
Me: For real?
Lachlan: No comment.
