Do You Remember

I don’t even know why I’m calling it a ‘fight’, it was more hilarious than upsetting, which is generally what fights are, especially when they’re with the one you love, but I really can’t say that our first fight was all that upsetting, because it was funny.
OH my god!
Why will I not stop babbling?
If my brain does not stop running away with the part that controls my writing hand, I’m going to stab it.
And that will hurt and I don’t want to do that, but I may be forced to so that I don’t bore you to sleep with my constant rambling an-ENOUGH!

I’m going to get on with the story.
I always do this, you’ve yelled at me plenty of times for chattering on about something without ever getting to the point.

So, that ‘fight’.
It was really lame, so lame, in fact, that we still talk about it even today, so I know you remember.
But you know what?
I don’t care; I’m telling you anyway.

I still say you started it.
I’m sure you’re shaking your head right now and thinking ‘nuh-uh, it was totally your fault, Josh’.
But, my dear, you are incorrect.
Who else would start a fight over who was the better guy for Sabrina in that lame TV show ‘Sabrina the Teenage Witch’?
And don’t you dare say that I would because it’s not true, I don’t even like the fucking show; you’re the one who always makes me watch it with you and then listen to you while you discuss it after every episode.
I would much rather watch other (normal) shows, or chat to people online, or eat, or go swimming in the non-existent pool in my backyard, or read magazines,or think about doing dirty things to you, or pretty much anything other than watch an annoying blonde witch get in a hell of a lot of trouble cause she can’t control her magic.

But I always watch it with you because it’s your favourite show and I love that excited look on your face when it comes on and how you yell at the TV when the ditzy blonde does something especially stupid.
And I watch it with you because you threaten me with no kisses or cuddling for a week if I ever go to express my desire to escape from the living room when I hear the theme music.
And I watch it because I love you and you’re always so happy when I throw myself down on the couch beside you and pull you into my chest just as the show starts, and I love seeing you happy… and cuddling you. You’re all warm and fuzzy and… wait, fuzzy?! WTF? No, no. Just warm. My pen got carried away again.

So anyway.
We were watching Sabrina like any other night, with you cuddled into my chest and my head resting on top of yours, when suddenly you moved your head so you were looking at me upside down and I looked down at you, before you moved to sit up.

You continued watching the TV intently and I continued watching you intently when, suddenly, out of the blue, you turned to me and asked me whether I preferred Harvey or Dashiell for Sabrina.
I was about to reply that I didn’t give a shit either way, but the look on your face threatened me with sexual torture if I didn’t say one or the other.

I knew that you were pretty much in love with Harvey (why, I have no idea, I’m much better looking – and less oblivious to, well, everything – than he is) and would choose him in a heartbeat.
So I told you that I preferred Dashiell, the other, more exciting and much smarter boy who was much more like Sabrina due to the fact that he’s also a half-witch.

I don’t know why I chose him…
Well, actually, yes I do, I chose him because I wanted to see your little pouty face that you make when I disagree with your views.
I love that pouty face; it makes me want to just eat you up because you’re that fucking cute…but if I ate you… I’d be sad, cause… well, you’d be in my belly and I can’t kiss you and cuddle you and all that other stuff when you’re in my belly…
Uh, yeah, so no cannibalism for me.
I’m perfectly content with just a chorus of ‘nawwwwwhhhh’s singing in my head whenever you jut your bottom lip out so damn cutely.

Anyway, I expected you to disagree with me, but I didn’t expect you to get mad at me.

You jumped off the couch like a bullet and stood with your hands on your hips and a glare on your face, the TV completely forgotten.

“Dashiell?” you screeched at me, and I actually shrunk away as far into the couch as I could, “You choose Dashiell for Sabrina? Are you insane?” Yes, but that’s not the point. “Harvey is the one for Sabrina; he’s always been there for her! How could you pick Dashiell over Harvey?”
You continued ranting for a little while until you ran out of breath and just stood glaring at me with a bright red face from the (really cute) angry look you were sporting. “Well?! What do you have to say for yourself?”

I nearly burst out laughing at that and I struggled to keep a straight face.
“Oh my god, Addison. It’s just a TV show, who c-”

“Don’t you dare say ‘who cares’ because I care. God, you are such a dick, Josh,” you shouted, before running upstairs into my bedroom, seeing as we were at my house.

Isn’t that nice; being locked out of your own bedroom by your boyfriend?
I didn’t really mind that much, I was pretty much about to burst from the giggles that kept rising up into my throat and threatening to spill.
I didn’t dare let them out because my house had paper thin walls and you could hear everything that went on, upstairs and downstairs.

I let you stew for about half an hour before venturing up to my room and opening the door. You were sitting in the middle of my floor, cross-legged and pouting.
“Addy, baby?”
“What?”
“I’m sorry, I was kidding. Harvey’s much, much better for Sabrina than Dashiell. Dashiell is a dick and Harvey’s really cute and nice… Do you forgive me? I really didn’t mean what I said…”

Your pout was replaced with a smile almost instantly and you wrapped your arms around my legs (seeing as I was standing, and you were on the ground) and pretty much pulled me onto the floor with you, before capturing my lips with yours in a heated kiss.
Placing my hand on the back of your neck, I deepened the kiss instantaneously and we made out until we were both breathless and panting and both sporting uh…problems.

You stuttered out some lame excuse for having to get up and you bolted from my room and straight into the bathroom, blushing like mad.
It makes me smile about how embarrassed you used to get when that happened; now, you flaunt it and tease me mercilessly.

Well, Ad, I don’t know about you, but I’d say that a fight over which love interest of Sabrina Spellman is the best for her is a pretty funny one.
You denied the hilarity of it for years, but I finally got you to admit it not too long ago.

Anyway, I’m glad that we had that fight; the make up make out was incredible.
I never knew that you could be so dominating before then.

Let me tell you; it’s HOT when you take control, I love it.
Reow.