Her eyebrow rose at his sudden coy look and she grinned like a maniac. Had she actually managed to make him blush about his own work? That was going in her memory book, that was for sure. Abi found herself reaching across and softly squeezing his arm, “You’re welcome and if anyone can change how people see swearing, you can,” she replied, lingering on his arm for a second before she leant back and returned to eating dinner. “You are writing again, aren’t you? And I know it’s not gibberish like you claimed in your letter. What are you writing about?” The clacking of the keys had made her grin wildly every time she had heard it, a comforting presence even though it must have driven the neighbours crazy.
“It doesn’t have to be overwhelming,” she said, “It can be fun and easy, we can just go by the big stuff since it’s all kinda connected and then if you want to, we can cover other stuff in culture and the sexual revolution, music, television, movies... anything you want.” Abi dearly wanted to help him get back into the world, knowing it wouldn’t fundamentally change him. Hemingway was the stubborn type who would stick to his guns if it meant never using a phone or watching TV again. She thought, though, that once she explained to him what dick pics were, she’d end up with porn on her cell. It made her grin.
He got mad at the nice reviews? That was so damn cute. “Well fuck me, you are probably the cutest damn thing I’ve ever seen. Artistic integrity in Hollywood is hard to come by, especially in the modern world. You should have seen what they did to Gulliver’s Travels. It’s just... horrific.” She shuddered and smirked. “Some aren’t bad but nothing can replace a novel.”
An unexpected but proud blush appeared on the apples of her cheeks at his reaction. “I told you, I went through a super wild phase in my life. I think a lot of kids do when there’s suddenly no restrictions and a lot of temptation around.” She sipped her wine, letting it linger on her tongue. “Tell me one of your wild stories.”