There had been something on Cayden's mind the whole time, and he kind of failed at keeping his promise about stepping in if things got awkward. Which they did. Several times. Occasionally, we got past question, answer, question, answer. And I caught myself half smiling at one point, which made my mum positively split her face in half grinning back. I know Cay had said she'd missed me, but seriously.
I guess things went okay, though, but they'd have been a whole lot better if Cay hadn't been sitting there blankly staring at the table.
Cayden stayed distracted all the way home, until he snapped out of it and started undressing me on my doorstep. Personally, I'm more in the mood to sit around and watch TV or sleep, or get drunk. As much as I'd wanted sex earlier, I don't really want it now, but as I open my mouth to tell him this, he cuts me off, pushing his lips over mine. Instead of fighting, I go with it. It's easier to just let him do what he wants.
See? Dignity doesn't exist in my life.
The next day, we go over to my granddad's place to say our goodbyes; Cay makes me say goodbye to my mum and then we leave for the airport. It's with near relief that I get on the plane, settling half in my seat, half leaning on Cay, ready for the long, boring flight.
"Are you okay?" I ask, about an hour into the flight. I sit up and look at him, concerned. "You've been quiet all day. And you were in a weird mood yesterday. There's something I'm missing... what is it?"
"Hmm? I'm fine, I guess it's just a bit weird going back, y'know?" No, I don't know, because it's turning out to be a fucking relief, knowing I won't be forced to see my mum til the next time I come back. He smiles, and I just shake my head, frowning. I don't really buy it, to be honest. There's something on his mind. He takes my hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. "Seriously, I'm fine."
"If you're sure," I sigh. He hooks a finger under my chin and makes me look him in the eye, this serious expression on his face.
"What do I have to do to convince you?" I blink, surprised b the question and just shrug.
"I never said I needed convincing. It's just not like you to be quiet for so long." He pretends to be all offended and huffs.
"Are you saying I'm a loudmouth?"
"No," I smile.
"Good," he leans his head on my shoulder, "I don't like being tall on this thing." I laugh softly and lift a hand to play with his hair.
"Shouldn't have grown so much then, eh." He hums, either in agreement, or because I've got my fingers tangled in his hair.
"They should make planes for tall people."
"I like being short," I grin. There are definite advantages to it, sometimes.
"I like you being small, means I can call you short-ass." So there are downsides too. But that's okay.
"At least I'm not lanky."
"I'd rather be lanky than a short-ass."
"I don't get cramped on a plane, though. I can buy any car I want without having to worry about the leg room, or if I'll fit. I am quite happy being short." I smile, and kiss the top of his head.
"Your shortness also means I can carry you and have my way with you wherever I feel like it," he grins and I laugh.
"Just as well I like how both of those sound," I wink, lifting his head off my shoulder so I can kiss him properly. Just because I've got him talking, doesn't mean I've forgotten that I want to know what's on his mind.