Your hand closes over mine, the one holding the knife. You lean in close. “Stop teasing the poor guy.” Me?! I narrow my eyes at you. Pull free of your grasp. Flip the butterfly open. Step into your space. Hold your gaze. And slice a button off your hot af flannel. “I’m just admiring the utility of this knife.”
Dangerous ground, Shades, popping buttons off of my flannels ... 🤔😬













