"Yeah, yeah," I roll my eyes playfully, not giving a fuck that I'm sitting here in the kitchen with my arms looped around his neck, smiling.

And it's too damn hard to fool myself into thinking I don't give a fuck something might be going on that he's trying to hide or shrug off or whatever. Maybe it was easier that way, but I hardly even remember a time when I didn't give a fuck about him. Even when we first started, and we hardly knew each other, I cared in all these ways I never really had before.

Pulling back, I get to my feet and start gathering up our plates, wordlessly moving to dump them into the sink.