Perspective

Chapter Forty Four.

She still hasn't caught on to what I'm trying to do.

There's an edge to Drew's voice for an entirely different reason now, and it makes my brows twitch together, "I wasn't asking to come over -- Are you okay? Is it a bad night?"

I've come to learn recently with our late night calls there's never really good night's when it comes to Drew, there's just the ones that aren't as bad as others. 

"I'm okay" she lies, I don't believe it for a second, "It's just not the best night -- what did you mean then, if you didn't want to come over?"

I don't push it, if she wanted to talk about it she'd tell me. I catch myself wondering sometimes how often she's lied to me, or hid things from me about stuff like that.

Lying is another thing my ex wife left a bad taste in my mouth with, but she was always malicious with it. Selfish. 

I've had conversations with Drew about my distaste for lying, but funnily enough, I don't think Drew thinks she's lying.

I think, she thinks she deserves to not be okay, or maybe she's scared of looking weak. Her incessant refusal of help has also made me realise that she doesn't want to be a burden, as well as being stubborn.

She mentioned that's why she never asks Frankie for help aside from babysitting Gizmo, she doesn't want to take advantage of the fact that he cares about her. She's 'not his problem'.

"Harry. What did you mean?"

Drew grabs my attention when I've wandered off in my mind, and I blink a couple times to clear my head.

"Sorry, I zoned out for a second" I apologize, rubbing the heel of my palm against my eye and wonder if I should really keep going with my idea. Would it be better just to talk to her?

Or maybe it might help? Could she use the distraction? Relieve some stress?

I know I'm being a bit selfish, but looking down at the bulge that's now straining in my briefs, I can't help myself.

"I meant, that since I can't be there. Maybe we could do the next best thing" I explain, shifting to trying to get comfortable; reaching down to adjust myself in my underwear and resist the urge to press my palm down and give myself some kind of relief, "Maybe take your mind off your night for a while as well."

"...Are - Are you trying to start phone sex with me right now?" Drews voice kicks up a notch, and I can't help the smirk that pulls on my lips at how stressed it is.

"Depends. Is it working?"

There's a pause. And I wonder if it's because she's considering it, or googling how to tell me to fuck off in several languages.

"I...- Harry, I can't... I can't do that. I've never-- I'm not good at... I can't say the things you do" she stammers with an insecurity in her voice I've only caught a glimpse of a couple times before.

Is she shy? Embarrassed? Nervous?

That's cute. But I think she'd be better at it than she realises.

"We don't have to" I offer, reminding her that she has a choice, "...But, if you want to - you wouldn't have to say much, just answer yes or no. Maybe use some feeling words."

"... Feeling words?" I can picture that confused crease between her brows again when she says that. Is she chewing on her cheek again too?

"Mmmm" I hum, dragging my thumb along under the hem of my boxers both teasing and distracting myself, "You know, if I ask how something feels. You could say good... soft... warm."