I'd promised ten minutes, hadn't I? I found something pretty as he said, and then promptly passed TopMan on the way to the station. And gotten very distracted.
So I ended up on a mini shopping spree that ended in buying a bracelet, a couple of pairs of sexy, sexy boxers, a grey and black plaid shirt and a new pair of jeans. The only thing that I got out of it was a mini dent in my savings and the jeans I'd been needing for about a month.
"I'm leaving you for Granny," is the greeting I get as I show up nearly quarter of an hour late. I pout.
"Fine. I shall keep my pretty things, then." He pulls this shocked face that I'm almost certain is real.
"But my pretty things..." he protests and I grin, moving back a step.
"...are in this bag, waiting for you to come get them," I giggle. He reaches for the bag, but I step back again, my grin turning evil. "Remember I said I wasn't so shit at sports anymore?"
"I swear to God I will fucking chase you." I clutch the bag tight, ready to run.
"Good. Don't get lost," I wink, before tearing off down the platform, neatly avoiding every unsuspecting commuter who gets in my way. Unfortunately, Cay catches up to me just as I'm about to sprint up the escalator, wrapping his arms around my waist firmly.
"Told you I was a fast runner," he smiles and I grip the bag harder.
"So you did. But I'm not a beetroot or gasping for breath. Howzat for a recently ex-smoker-for-the-third-time, eh?"
"It's impressive... It'd be more impressive if I'd even had to run fast." Harsh.
"Want the pretty things or not?" He lets go of me and I turn to face him as he holds his hands out. I smirk and prod him in the side. "I'll give them to you in the car. You can marvel at them on the way to my mum's place."
"Awesome." I laugh and lead him out of the underground, walking back to my car that someone had so carelessly parked up so close to, that I couldn't actually get in. With a growl, I reach down under the passenger seat, feeling around for a Sharpie. Never go anywhere without a Sharpie. After scrawling "learn how to park, asshole" over the offending car's windscreen, I climb in through the passenger side and manage to rest the temptation to ram the person's car on the way out. Bad drivers and no sleep makes for an unhappy Maxxie.
Still, Cay says nothing about my parking rage, completely distracted by his presents. He grins like a little kid, treating the goldfish tank decoration (which is shiny, and pretty, as requested) like it's a new toy. "Yay," he beams, before looking at the clothes I got him.
"Let me guess, you want me to wear the shirt, boxers and bracelet but ultimately end up in just the bracelet," he gives me a sly smile, and I laugh.
"Well, you wouldn't let me go to a sex shop."
"Improvising... I like it."
"I always was an imaginative kid," I smile. The smile fades as I enter Westminster and what I'm about to do suddenly seems like its looming over me.
The temptation to drive straight through would almost be worth the yelling I'm sure to get from Cayden for it.