Gilbert eyed her with distrust — he certainly didn’t like the devious smile she held, as he knew it certainly didn’t mean anything good for him.
“I swear t’God in Heaven, Misty Day, if it’s stupid you better swatch for the slap,” he teased as he swung himself down from the railing and tugged on his discarded flannel in a moment of shyness before huffing off to squint at himself in the mirror. “DORK” glared at him angrily behind his fringe, and he almost laughed if he wasn’t trying so hard to look slightly pissed off.
“Hey!” He shouted while he stormed back out, reaching for the sharpie in her ringed fingers. “You promised. Now it’s my turn — gimme that thing. I’m gonna put a big ol’ ugly word right ‘cross your face.”
“Oh, no! But my face is--- ugly words don’t look on dainty little lady’s faces,” She grinned, feigning disapproval before poking out her tongue at him. “Good thing I ain’t ever been dainty. Try me, dork.” She challenged, cocking a playful brow at the other. “I dare ya.”