“You know, there’s a book about that.” She said.
“About what?” He asked, walking faster to catch up with her.
“About why every time we fight, you buy me something.” She turned around and stuck out her tongue.
“Oh yeah? Does it say how you like pretty things and I’m the sucker who goes and buys them for you?” He grabbed her hand and pulled her close.
She laughed and tried to pull free, but only half heartedly. He tightened his grip.
“Nooo…” She whined. “It’s a book about the different way people show their love. You show it by giving gifts. You know ’cause you’re a big brooding meany pants who doesn’t like talking about his feelings.”
“Hey!”
She laughed. “What?”
“I’m not a ‘brooding meany pants,’ whatever that means.”
“It means that when you’re angry with me you get mopey and quiet and then I get all paranoid trying to figure out what I did wrong.
And it’ll be something like I DVR’d over one of your shows, or I wouldn’t let you order pizza for dinner again, or I forgot to put away my inks and you stained another pair of jeans.” She trailed off quietly.
He squeezed her hand. “You know I can’t get hot pink and gold ink out of my pants.”
“You gotta talk to me babe. You know I hate that cold shoulder shit.”
“I know, I know. Look, my family wasn’t big on talking things out. I’m not used to it. you know that. We’re all repressed. Look at my mom.” He pulled her into his arms.
“But I’m getting better aren’t I?” He whispered into her ear.
She could feel her face getting hotter.
Public displays of affection both embarrassed and thrilled her, not having been accustomed to them before he stumbled into her life.
She squirmed in his arms trying to break free.
“Remember,” he continued, “when I told you you were gross for drinking straight out of the juice carton?” He brushed his lips against her jaw and down to her neck, breathing in deeply.
“I’m not gross.” She muttered. She enjoyed the warmth of his breath against her skin.
“You are.” He kissed her lightly. “It’s cool though. I still like you.”
“People are staring.”
He looked up and saw a small group of teenage girls giggling in their general direction.
He turned back to her. “Those aren’t people.” he said as he moved his lips to the other side of her neck. “Those are teenagers.” He ran his fingers through her hair and moved his other hand to the small of her back.
“Now what was I saying?”
“You were telling me about how gross I am.” She reached for his face and pulled him away from his neck. She looked up at him.
“Tell me I’m not gross.” She demanded.
He smirked. “Oh you’re so gross. You leave your dirty laundry all over the house. Panties and socks everywhere.”
She laughed. He loved the sound of her laugh. It’s what drew him to her the first day they met.
“Oh yeah? And what else? You have a list?”
He kissed her forehead. “Oh, if I started going over that list we’d end up missing the movie.”
“That long, eh?”
“You’re a brat and a mess.”
“Damn. Should we file for divorce then?”
He sighed. “I think so. Well, we gave it a good run.”
“Three months were long enough.”
“I’ll call the lawyer.”
She smacked his arm. “Oh shut up. Let’s go in, I wanna sit in the back.”
“Ooh it’s gonna be one of those movie visits.” He pulled her towards the theater door.
She giggled and hurried along. “No! I want to actually see this one. I just hate having people sitting behind me.”
“Damn tease.”
“Shut up.”
He winked at her as he opened the door.
“Hey, so what’s your love language?”
She stopped and thought about it a moment. “You know something? I’m not sure. I didn’t get very far in the book. Why don’t you try and find out?”
The Secret Life of Pandas 