dinner & diatribes shitty/lardo agenda
“You don’t have to go to this, you know,” Shitty tells her, not for the first time.
“I know,” Lardo replies simply, focusing on her reflection in the mirror as she eases her gold hoops in.Â
“It’s probably not gonna be fun. Hell, I wouldn’t even be going if I didn’t have to.”
“Shits,” she says, voice stern but still gentle. “I know. I want to go with you.” She looks at him in the mirror. “We’re a team.”
A small smile lights up his face. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” Lardo smirks. “Plus, spending an evening eating rich white people food is totally worth the microaggressions.” She’s struggling to get her necklace clasped. “Will you help me with this?”
He takes a few steps forward until he’s standing directly behind her. She sweeps her hair over one shoulder, exposing the back of her neck for him. His fingertips brush against her skin and if it wouldn’t make them late, she’d strip him out of his suit right here and now.Â
Shitty leans down, pressing a kiss to the top of her shoulder, his mustache tickling her. “There you go.”Â
She stands, pushing back from her vanity, and turns around. He stares down at her, love filling the silence and space between them. Lardo reaches out to straighten his tie, not because it’s all that crooked but because she wants to rest her hand on his chest to feel his heart, steady beneath her fingers — so she does.Â
“It’s gonna be alright. And if you really feel that bad about it” – now she stands on her toes to speak into his ear in a low whisper — “you better make it up to me later tonight.”