“Have you lost your damn mind!?” Jack/Bitty, OMGCP
Bitty was, in a word, miffed. Because Mr. Jack Laurent Zimmermann had, after explicitly requesting maple-pecan pie, responded to Bitty’s triumphant gesture of actually producing said pie poorly. He had departed with a huffy sigh, storming off and parking himself on that nightmare of a green couch while Bitty stood in momentary immobilized astonishment.
It would be a cold day in hell before Bitty got near that couch and so it was from a distance that he asked, pie in hand and confused, “Have you lost your damn mind?”
Jack sighed, the begrudgingly-heaved put-out sigh of the downtrodden, and said, “Thank you, Bittle. It smells amazing.” He stood and reached out a hand to take the plate, avoiding eye contact and morosely lifting one steaming bite of the impeccably made pie to his mouth, chewing slowly.
Bitty ran over the last ten minutes in his mind, and realized that his response to Jack’s murmured “I do like pecan pie” from about three inches from his face may have been slightly maladroit in picking up what Jack was throwing down.
Oh, you sweet summer child, Eric Bittle thought to himself exasperatedly, and pulled Jack’s face down so he could kiss it properly. Honestly.