She shook her head, frowning. “You like me,” she said after a moment. “I thought it was all fake.” *** “You just want plain eggs? Coward.”
He frowned, his head tilting. "I tried to tell you it wasn't." *** "Shush. You can surprise me if you want."
“No, I know you did,” she said, sounding frustrated. Atticus looked over and flew across the room, landing on her head and tugging on strands of her hair. She barely seemed to notice. “I know you said that, but you never said it when I wasn’t there. God... Mr... I thought I had brainwashed you, Levy.” *** “No, you can have your boredom eggs.”
He laughed slightly, reaching out and brushing her hair back gently. "You brainwashed yourself." *** "Hmph. Rude."
Her forehead was warm and she frowned, looking up at him as Atticus tried to nibble on Levy’s finger. “It happens way too often.” *** “It’s not rude. It’s true. Do you want toast?”
“I suppose,” she said, still looking uncertain. “Although this might be a fever dream; you shouldn’t touch me, just to be safe.” *** He left the stove to pop a few pieces of bread in the toaster, humming to himself.
He pulled his hand away. "Fair enough. Can I make you the soup?" *** She was watching him affectionately, her head resting on her hands.
She hesitated, her blanket draping around her shoulders. “I don’t know... I don’t want you to get sick...” *** He came over to her with a plate of eggs and toast. “Voila.”
She considered this as Atticus climbed down to stand on her shoulder. “That’s true... you and I don’t kiss.” *** “Sure, V,” he said smoothly, ruffling her hair.
"Not while you're sick, anyways," he said, taking the soup and going to the kitchen. *** She leaned into his touch slightly before eating her food.
She squinted at him, sitting on the couch. “Not at all,” she told him primly. “We don’t kiss at all.” *** He went back to the stove.
"What do you mean?" he said, looking back at her. "We've kissed before." *** She was quiet as she ate her food.
“That was before I knew you liked me,” she said tiredly, resting her head on her hand. “Now I have to be withholding...” *** (Zoop?)
She laughed slightly, looking tired. “They shouldn’t be.” *** Gideon sighed, rolling up his sleeves. “I hate this part,” he said, gingerly stepping into the cage.
"I'm kidding. We'll kiss eventually." *** She watched him, her brows furrowed as she stood by the entrance. "It doesn't look fun."
“No,” she maintained, shaking her head. “‘There’s no kissing here.” *** He sighed, rolling his neck slightly. “It’s fine. You should probably close the gate though, the moon’s about to come up.”
