𝐈𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐑𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐬

29 - airport

"You remember the day you begged me to tutor you? It was our first week of school and every time I tried to teach you something new, you'd get distracted, so when the waiter delivered this colouring menu, you began to colour a chicken in a farm."

I laugh at the memory, she was so damn frustrated at me that day. But it wasn't actual frustration, it was more like toleration. If that's even a word.

"That was the first day of many where I planned your very slow and timely death." She tells me, leaning back in her chair and smiling as I take out of the box.

It's a fresh menu, but instead of a chicken in a farm like last time, it's a sketch of Mila and I as children.

It reminds me of the paparazzi one from earlier, she's sitting down on the couch, looking totally uninterested as I kiss her cheek, completely enamored by her bitch-face.

Well, at least we're consistent, right?

There's a tiny picture in the right hand corner which shows the original photo for me to copy. Even the top of the page spells out—in true Emilia fashion...

'Obsessed with me since we were toddlers, hm?'

"You're damn right I was. Just so hard to resist when you would pee the bed." Another tease, another roll of the eyes from Mila.

"Oh yeah and watching you pee in the ocean was just as enticing for me." She jokes back while tearing open the pack of coloring pencils.

"And they say romance is dead.." I say and take out the blue coloring pencil to fill in the outline of her dress.

I'm shitty at coloring, I know it, she knows it. But we don't discuss that, we talk about everything else.

Why each of our parents are waiting for our downfall—although Mila thinks that Adaline is secretly rooting for us.

The schools hide and seek tag game that's taking place next week, she's on a team with Georgia apparently. I don't know much about G, but I do know that she is a great cheerleader and would do anything for Mila.

A basket of bread is placed on the table during our conversation once I've almost finished coloring in the photo and Mila frowns.

"Oh, hey! It's a piece of bread." I don't understand what she's insinuating...until I remember yesterday.

"Just gotta wait for it to go stale and then it'll be us." She takes a rather aggressive bite of the bread, normally, I'd be concerned, but she smiles again.

If my memory doesn't fail me, I do recall perhaps referring to our love as a piece of stale bread...that will eventually go moldy? Whoopsy.

"I didn't mean it like that." An attempt to defend myself falls flat as she jabs at my picture. "Just finish coloring, darling."

Her accent with that two syllable word is enough to make any man get on his knees. But I refrain as we are in a public restaurant.

The rest of the dinner feels so...natural? With Mila slowly starting to open up , emphasis on the 'slowly' but I'm willing to wait for her.

After dinner, we visit some more little shops that are open past six, a small ice cream store sits on the corner which I begged and pleaded for her to take me. She eventually gave in and made me wait outside while ordering.