@bixem:
That smile of his grew wide. Bright sparkling pearly whites contained by small yet plump lips, covered in an instance as that tongue darted out to moisten the pads but that smile went nowhere. It stayed, shifting into a sly little smirk as his attention switched to something just to the back side of you, squinting a little from the bright rays of the sun. That deep voice rumbling out a low ❝ hm.. ❞ as he pretended to think.
❝ Well I don’t know babe, questions like this are tough. ❞ Browns moved back to you to take you in, in full. All too easily using his height to hide just how low his eyes wandered. ❝ I can call the Chinese food joint without crying… pretty sure. But I’m shit at taking care of myself. I might need me a short successful baby-faced babe to kiss my boo boo’s every now and then. Among other things. ❞
Within a split second, Harlowe’s mood changed from amused to absolutely done. Most of the time she was able to let flirtatious comments go through one ear and out the other (truthfully, most of the time she never even picked up on them in the first place), but in recent months her tolerance for it was nonexistent. Still, her expression remained basically unchanged despite the mild annoyance, only noted by how she folded her arms across her chest and took a step back.
“So you’re still at level one,” she answered frankly, lips tugging up into a smirk in hopes of softening the blow a bit. Her words being read as hostile digs was a common occurrence, and while she had no intentions of changing how she worded things or making her voice sound softer, she could at least make it seem like her intended sarcasm and wit rather than blatant attacks. “You’re ambitious. Most short successful baby-faced babes would prefer to have someone that can at least take care of themselves. No one wants to give their 100 just to get little in return, right?”
