he asked me where i got my eyes from
i told him last week sometime at an end of season sale.
constant staring..
biting lips..
messy hair..
huge conversations.
life stories
putting myself out there like some meat platter.
he called me an undercover geek
while i beat myself with his drum sticks
he called me a goddess all sprawled out on the floor.
he called me silly.. and beautiful.. and out there.. and nothing like he thought id be..
we spent hours laying around thinking...
about going and getting food.. being productive..
me going home.. sleeping..
lots of things ...but we just didnt get around to anything...
he cooked for me...
which was just lovely...
he played drums to me
and alot of guitar ..
alot of hide and seek action..
we played "how did you get that scar"
he bought me tequila sunrise's..
we hugged for hours.. and hours
he played with my hair..
he massaged my back upside down.
he was forever trying to decode my eyes and actions.. figure me out.
he was impressed by my physical strength.. and toned legs..
his house is covered in my dead hair...
called me too observant..
see straight through him..
but not really.
