"And you've broken promises yourself," I reminded him back.
"Just one theory—I won't laugh."
"Yes, you will." I was positive of that.
He looked down, and then glanced up at me through his long, black lashes, his ocher eyes scorching mine. I could feel my insides melting again.
"Please?" he breathed, his breath like the fingers of God caressing my face.
I blinked, my mind going black. Holy crow! How did he do that?
"Er, what?" I asked, dazzled.
"Pwease tell me just one wittle feorwy?" His eyes still smoldered at me, smoky.
"Um, well," my voice shook in the heat, "bitten by a radioactive spider? Playboy-badass crime-hater?" Was he a hypnotist, too? Or was I just a hopeless pushover?
"That's not very creative," he scoffed.
"I'm sorry, that's all I got," I sighed.
"You're not even close," he teased.
"No spiders?"
"Nope."
"And no radioactivity?"
"None."
"Dang," I sighed.
"Kryptonite doesn't bother me either," he chuckled.
"Kryptonite doesn't even exist, jerk," I retorted. "... wait, does it?"
He struggled to compose his face.
"I'll figure it out eventually," I warned him.
"I wish you wouldn't try." He was serious again.
"Because... ?"
"What if I'm not a superhero? What if I'm the bad guy?" He smiled playfully, but his eyes were impenetrable.129
129. 'GO: EYES OF IMPENETRABILITY,' thought Fredward, smolderingly.