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-psh, not my style, needs to be something chaotic, per usual- He chuckled, the memories still just : bike, ground, her face, then a very, very, very deep black, washing out everything. |
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- not your style? hopefully you dont crash your bike for me, well it would be pretty hot- she texted back a grin behind the screen. |
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Monty grinned, chuckling lightly. -what makes you say that, hm?- |
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- a guy, beating himself up in a crash just for you. dosent sound hot? - she questioned, - i mean it sounds pretty hot for me..- |
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-doesnt specifically have to be a crash to make me only remember your face- |
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- my face? my face is totally forgetable, yours is not. Your like the tom cruise in a room full of donald trumps,- |
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-huh, i've never heard that one before. dang, now i've gotta come up with something like that- He paused, coming up with one. -you're like the megan foxx in a room of grandmas???? heck, that just sounds bad. you're hot, straight through and straight through- |
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-oh, you think im hot now? could say the same about you - she giggles, staring at her screen. - also, thanking you again for getting my purse earlier ! - |
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"No way I just said that," He muttered, dragging a hand down his face in distress. -how about we get a drink sometime? or if that's not you, maybe grab a bite?- |
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-why dont we get dinner tonight? i dont have anything better too do.- |
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Warming, with Sleet and Heavy Icing
