She thinks she's sooo funny, he'd thought, enlisting the assistance of his startlingly well managed poker face to seem entirely unamused by her last, sardonic little quip. The truth of the matter was however, that he thought it was pretty fucking funny, well delivered, and surprisingly it got to him. Why? Because he was obviously included in that mark up of buffoons who 'came back for more'. He flared his nostrils--yes, it was the sign--that he was a bit ticked.
"We're going to go to Ikea and split the penthouse in half, my wet chunk of turkey leg." He'd begun, seeking to change the topic and act utterly careless. "It'll look like a jungle gym, a really fancy jungle gym with lots of ... fancy ... wood stuff. And you can stay on your side and I can stay on mine. You're very tolerable in small doses and I enjoy your humor and your company on occasion, however. " He began to approach her with a stern expression, treating this obviously as thoughtfully and as a methodic 'business matter.' Even the way he walked appeared more tall. "I realize that if we spend too much time together, we'll driving each other fuckin' crazy." Still, his advances on her persisted. Until they were face to face.
"I can buy whatever frivolous girly crap you want from Ikea, or where ever frivolous girly crap place you want frivolous-girly-crap-furniture from, but you're never to dare set foot on my side of the room, unless you want to be in trouble."
He grinned, leaning down slowly until their gazes met very close. She had nice skin. It will be a pity to watch it wither one day, he'd thought. For now she was young and would make a good trophy. Well, admittedly she was more than a trophy. He thought of her as a close friend and sometimes when he felt like it, a confidant.
"Now kiss me." He turned his head and pointed to his cheek.