Why Don't You Just Drop Dead?

“You could show me around Chicago,” I trailed off, knowing he’d shoot it down. The fact that I was their prisoner was quickly becoming more of a joke than anything else. I was no threat to them and they knew it. “We could maybe grab a bite, go to a movie or something.”

“You’re funny, princess. I can dig funny. But you and I both know you’re not leaving this house,” He replied, using his powers gently for once to slide me over to the couch. “Tell you what, though. There’s a marathon of conspiracy theories on til midnight. After that, you get to choose what we do. If, you can stay awake, that is.”

I rolled my eyes and hiked up the pants Oliver had given me. They were about three sizes to wide and a million too long, and frankly I think he just wanted me to get so annoyed I took them off and pranced about in my underpants.

“You’re not the only person a vamp’s schedule, you know. I can’t even remember the last time I was awake before the sun set. Two in the morning is nothing.”

“Is that a bet? Because if it is, I’m sure we could think of some pretty… interesting terms.”

“Pig,” I scoffed, trying not to think on the same level as him.

“Oh, don’t be like that, princess. You know I’m attractive by nearly all standards, and I made you laugh which has to count for something.”

“Get your head out of the chick flicks, Oliver. I laughed because you’re an idiot and shoved a molten cookie into your mouth, and because maybe we’ll be friends. Besides, you’re not my type.”

“Whatever, you’ll warm up to me.”

I fell asleep on his shoulder nearly three quarters of the way through a documentary on Area 51.

“I win, princess.”