Categories > TV > Criss Angel Mindfreak > Paper Cranes
“Then what am I supposed to do?” the words left her lips, even as a smile was playing at the edges of them. She knew what he was going to say, but she needed to hear him say it, needed to have it come from his mouth.
“You’re going to stay here with me.” He said in a manner that meant there was never any question about it. Crayne laughed.
“Good. Because you need someone around here to do your dishes and sweep your floors and dust your books.”
“The dim lighting didn’t fool you?”
“No, dear, it didn’t.” the endearment rolled off her tongue as naturally as if she’d been calling him that all of his life.
Criss watched her as he went to the sink and began to stack his dishes. She already moved as though she owned the place. He leaned against the wall, watching her fill the sink with hot, soapy water.
“You’re going to need your clothes.”
“I’d just as soon we don’t go to that place.”
“Why?”
“Because if I go there, Criss, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to leave.” She dropped in handfuls of dirty silverware.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I would get sucked into that place again. Listen,” she closed her eyes, frustrated. “It’s not something I want to talk about. Can we please just drop the subject? Please, Criss?”
“Okay,” he said soothingly. “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” He walked over to her as she dipped her hands into the water and began scrubbing the dishes with the lone sponge she’d found under the sink.
Criss wrapped his arms around her waist and set his chin on her shoulder. She leaned her head against his as she continued on with her housework. They stayed like that for a moment.
Why was it, Criss wondered that women always managed to smell so nice? Even when they just woke up, even when they had spent the past two hours dancing, they always smelled delicious.
“You’re going to stay here with me.” He said in a manner that meant there was never any question about it. Crayne laughed.
“Good. Because you need someone around here to do your dishes and sweep your floors and dust your books.”
“The dim lighting didn’t fool you?”
“No, dear, it didn’t.” the endearment rolled off her tongue as naturally as if she’d been calling him that all of his life.
Criss watched her as he went to the sink and began to stack his dishes. She already moved as though she owned the place. He leaned against the wall, watching her fill the sink with hot, soapy water.
“You’re going to need your clothes.”
“I’d just as soon we don’t go to that place.”
“Why?”
“Because if I go there, Criss, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to leave.” She dropped in handfuls of dirty silverware.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I would get sucked into that place again. Listen,” she closed her eyes, frustrated. “It’s not something I want to talk about. Can we please just drop the subject? Please, Criss?”
“Okay,” he said soothingly. “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” He walked over to her as she dipped her hands into the water and began scrubbing the dishes with the lone sponge she’d found under the sink.
Criss wrapped his arms around her waist and set his chin on her shoulder. She leaned her head against his as she continued on with her housework. They stayed like that for a moment.
Why was it, Criss wondered that women always managed to smell so nice? Even when they just woke up, even when they had spent the past two hours dancing, they always smelled delicious.
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