Page 43 of He Should Be Mine
“Don’t care.”
“You don’t want to play, like, Uno? Or something?”
“We don’t have Uno.”
He frowns. “Why don’t we have Uno?”
“Because we’re not twelve.”
“Well,someonedidn’t stock the flat for long-term trauma bonding.“ He gets up and starts opening cupboards, looking for something to do like a bored house cat. Even though he has already explored them a thousand times. “You’re no fun. I’m injured, you know. You’re supposed to entertain me.”
“You’re not injured,” I say. “You’re bruised.”
“Oh,soheartless.”
“You said you’ve been worse.”
“I have. But still.”
He finds a deck of playing cards. A little dusty, tucked in the drawer under the instruction manuals for the kitchen appliances. He tosses them on the coffee table and flops back down.
“We’re playing Strip Poker,” he declares.
“No.”
He grins. “Don’t worry, you’ll win.”
“Molly.”
“I’m kidding.” He sighs and starts shuffling. “You’re tense today. Even more than usual.”
“You’re sore,” I counter. “You shouldn’t be up and moving around.”
“Occupational hazard,” he says, quiet now. “I don’t want to lie down and think about it. I want… this. Something else. Something stupid and normal.”
Normal. Christ. I don’t even know what the fuck that is. It’s not something that has ever been a part of my life.
I sit down opposite him. “Fine. But we play something normal. No stripping. No flirting.”
He gives me a mock salute. “Go Fish, then.”
“Sure.”
We start to play.
It’s stupid. It’s slow. But it keeps our hands busy and our eyes off each other. I catch him watching me once or twice anyway, but I don’t say anything. I don’t want to let on that I have noticed, because then he might stop.
I cast my own furtive glances back and hope he doesn’t catch me watching him.
He’s not smiling the way he usually does, there’s a tiredness in him today, curled behind his lashes.
“Dario,” he says eventually, voice soft.
I glance up.
“Do you think he’ll want me again today?”
I go still. “I don’t know.”
