"Something you said to Jessica... well, it bothers me." He refused to be distracted by my generosity. His voice was husky with refusal, and he glanced up from under his lashes with troubled eyes.
"I'm not surprised you heard something you didn't like. You know what they say about eavesdroppers," I reminded him.229
"I warned you I would be listening."230
"And I warned you that you didn't want to know everything I was thinking."
"You did," he agreed, but his voice was still rough. "You aren't precisely right, though. I do want to know what you're thinking—everything. I just wish... that you wouldn't be thinking some things."
"Yeah, well, love is about compromise." I informed him.
"But that's not really the point at the moment."
"Then what is?" We were inclined toward each other across the table now. He had his large white hands folded under his chin, left above right; I leaned forward, my right small white hand cupped around my neck. I had to remind myself that we were in a crowded, public lunchroom, with probably many curious eyes on us. It was too easy to get wrapped up in our own private, tense little love bubble.
"Do you truly believe that you care more for me than I do for you?" His heart murmured, leaning closer to me as I spoke, his dark and gold eyes piercing through my skull, down my nasal passages, through my lungs and into my heart.
I tried to remember how to exhale. I had to look away before it came back to me.
"You're doing it again," I muttered, once I was finally able to breathe.
His eyes opened wide with surprise. "... what!?"
229. From an earlier, undocumented conversation:
"You know, Fredward, they say that eavesdropping gives you cancer." I said under my breath.
"What?" Fredward asked, looking up.
"Oh, nothing. Nevermind." I sighed.
230. It is abusive behavior to think that something wrong is acceptable just because you warned the person you were going to do it.