“Oh, really?”
Marlon’s tone rubs me the wrong way.
“You sound surprised,” I remark.
He shrugs.
“I just remember how obsessed you were with Sailor Moon and Dora and all thatcutesystuff back then, you know?”
He raises his pitch oncutesyand I physically recoil from him.
“And? What does that have to do with me liking Death Note?”
“I just didn’t think it’d suit your vibe.”
Marlon assuming he gets my vibe based on him remembering some childhood version of me makes me want to laugh. So what if I like rainbows and death? Can’t someone like both?
“You’re just being sexist,” I deduce, turning my head away.
I hear an audible gasp.
“Excuseme, I am not sexist,” he defends, sounding genuinely betrayed.
“That’s what your assumptions about my taste were insinuating just then,” I point out, mainly because it’s funny to see Marlon this flustered.
“I was just pointing out that based on your likes back then, I would never have guessed you were watching something like this.”
“Sexist,” I conclude, jutting my chin high.
“You know what, you can go watch all the gritty, dark, scary movies and shows all you want, it doesn’t bother me.”
He presses play again on the screen, and I smile, satisfied. That was enough socialisation with Marlon to last me an entire week. An entire month, if I were lucky.
I fish out my book again. I’m on the last page, and I digest it all as if I haven’t read it before. My lips murmur the last few words, before pulling itself into a smile.
Closing it, I sigh, overcome with that wave of romantic yearning once more. And you wonder why I’m such a hopeless romantic, as I continue to fill my bookshelf with romance books.
Marlon’s arm nudges against mine again as he shifts, and I sneak one more glance. He’s reached a climatic scene.
“Oh, this is a good episode,” I mutter.
Marlon sighs, “Okay, spoilers much.”
I huff in exasperation.
“I didn’t even say anything.”
Abruptly, he takes his right earphone out, and hands it toward me. I grimace, glancing at it like he was handing me something vulgar.
“If you want to watch the rest of the episode just take it, but you better not spoil me, and you better stay quiet.”
I narrow my eyes at him, ready to say no, but the episode is one of the best ones from the show. Begrudgingly, I take the earphone, and press it hesitantly against my ear.
“Okay, go.”
“Geez, bossy. No talking now,” he says, and I’m about to open my mouth to retort that he should be following his own advice, when I get swept immediately in the scene as he presses play.
The ride ends up being one of the quickest I’d taken in a long time.
