April 7th, 1936

"Good morning, Don."

"Pip. Why are you still here?"

"What do you mean?"

"I may not have ears, but I still heard your Pa yelling at you last night."

"Oh."

"Did he throw any bottles at you?"

"No, he didn't. He merely missed the bin is all. Thank you for the concern, though it wasn't needed."

"Human or not, he shouldn't be shouting at a kit like you or anyone else. It's not cool, and he doesn't have the right."

"Kit?"

"Yeah, kit. You know, like the kitten kind of kit."

"I don't think I'm happy with your choice of wording there, Don. I'm not a cat in any way, shape, or form."

"No, but you're a woman so I can call you Kitten."

"Not if I have anything to say about it."

"What, are you gonna tell your old man in there? I'm sure he'll be just fine with you coming back here after last night's fiasco."

"...No. That thought never once came to mind. And for your information, I'm not like my father or anyone else you may have met before me."

"I already know that. Your the only one dumb enough to let me put my hands on you."

"I haven't let you lay a finger on me, and you know it."

"Do I? 'Cause I'm pretty damn sure you let me sit on you."

"You are unbelievable!"

"Yet here we are, having full belief in what the other is saying."

"I never said I believed you."

"Yet you still read on and don't come back with any counters. Funny how things work, eh Kitten?"

"I'm done speaking to you."

"First of all, Ma'am, both our lips are sealed tight. Second of all, you're just done because you don't have a sound enough debate to drop on me."

I didn't write him back, flustered by knowing that he was right. A smart-mouthed nuisance, he is. I want to stop myself from talking to him again, but it's simply too much enjoyment to pass up at the moment. Every time I step back inside from being with Don, I begin to see the world in a bit more color.  

I'm aware these have been short chapters, but I think it works in most places of this story. Much love, hope you enjoyed. 

~Eko