The ride to the ice cream shop was brief. But the whole time, Jace had sung to songs that played on the radio.
Under my command, of course. He was, after all, my slave for two weeks. I better make use of it.
We decided to eat the ice cream in the store. There was a designated table outside, and we sat. Jace watched me for a while before he got lost in thought, delving into his ice cream.
I got chocolate with choco chip toppings. He tried the matcha flavor.
"Does this ice cream satisfy your sweet tooth?" He asked, and I nodded. If we had been sitting side by side, I imagined him ruffling my hair like an obedient little girl.
It was cringe but, at the same time, also sweet. Tempting as it was to ask him to do it, I'd rather have him do it on his own accord and not because I asked.
There was a difference when a man took the initiative rather than being told.
It was the intent.
