And more than that, he couldn't stand her, not really: she made him laugh; she was endlessly entertaining in a horrible wreck of a way and exactly the sort of object he enjoyed filling his vision with, but he didn't like her and felt no need to impress her, nor guard himself against saying something he'd later tearfully regret. The sharp reminder of the sort of barriers he could for once let down with other women closer to his heart was softened by the fact that with her he could let down others instead: more superficial ones, ones that didn't make him ache with relief at their temporary dismantling, but others nonetheless.
It didn't matter to him a bit if he disgusted her, and more than that he suspected that she was incapable of having standards high enough to make being disgusted possible, even with him. There was no sense of conquest in a woman like Cee. Which didn't matter. He found himself already hoping that she'd find some way to broadcast this to America, and already shutting out Fiona's disgusted observation that America would not give a ********>. Maybe, he thought dimly, he could discreetly finagle it.
He feigned a theatrical dismayed face as the last of the tequila vanished, and took the bottle from her hands to set it aside and make a move to get both comfortable and closer. He was quiet again, and this time it was the murmuring, slurred quiet of suggestion as he impatiently bent to the same patch of neck he'd aggravatingly shunned before. "Good, sure. Going to get better," he said.
iloveyouDIE
neutral I hate Taym a lot and I hate you for making this thread exist
