"Dreaming?" He asks.
I pull my eyes from the lush of the park across the road to him. I smile a really unconvincing smile. I feel depressed and slightly inadequate all of a sudden.
And really, really bitter resentful and consumed with jealousy. He attracts so many women out there and I hate it.
He eyes me suspiciously while arranging the coffees and muffins on the table before ridding himself of the tray and taking a seat opposite me. I start picking at the top of my muffin as I stir my coffee. I know he's watching me, but I can't seem to muster up the strength to appear fine. I'm not.
We haven't even talked about the things happen at the Mansion. We haven't talked about anything yet, really.
"Hey, sorry I'm not coming to the party," I say to my cappuccino.
"Yes, I love you so much, but I really can't do that yet," I add the last bit in the hope of softening the blow.
But my Lord doesn't take no so well, not from me, anyway.
