I should say no. I don't want to fucking fight again, and I don't really see us coming to any sort of understanding, as much as I want to. Sinking down into the chair across from him with a scowl, I think he's probably lucky there's this table between us. I'm never completely sure whether to kiss him or fucking strangle him, most days.

"What?" I mutter, waiting for him to say whatever the hell he wants to say. Which is probably a big fucking nothing.