addicted week 2017 ≡ favorite platonic relationship — ryke + the cobalts
“Better the foul-mouthed uncle than the witch mother.” I know it’s what they’ll call me, and since I have many more young children who’ll eventually attend Dalton Elementary, I can’t set every bridge on fire. For their sake.
Ryke takes the keys out of the ignition. “You’re not a witch. By Lo’s fucking definition, I’d be a witch with you.” Outspoken. Hot-headed.
“You’re not a woman. You wouldn’t be called one,” I remind him, my eyes cold.
Maybe it boils down to this: I have no fucking clue what’s going through his head. I rarely do. Not until he tells me, and for a while, I’ve been asking him to restrain his opinions.
I don’t want your fucking wisdom, Cobalt.
I’d take it back right now.
I’d give anything for him to make an arrogant comment, interject and call me a fucking dog. His silence annoys me, grates on me, and I just need him to go back to irritating me.