After he dressed up, we returned to the living space and I went on playing the gracious host. Going to the kitchen I decided to make him a plate, for I was famished. He sits on the kitchen counter stools and I remember my bare ass was just here and I had to sanitize the counter.
He was just looking at me as I was moving around. It seemed today we were going to talk with our eyes more then. After cleaning I serve him and bring out the cocktail and a side of fresh juice. I join him as I make another plate and we eat in silence.
Did the cat cut his tongue, why wasn't he his usual charming self? He was just throwing me adorable and weird looks across the counter. He seemed to be in battle with himself and he couldn't settle on what he was feeling and my patience was running out as per usual.
"Out with it." I promoted
"What?"
"Whatever has gotten your pants in knots."
