I looked at the food as I sliced the first bite of the now cold chicken. I loved cooking, and I loved savoring the taste of what I eat, but instead of...eating this delicious meal while it was hot and steamy, I was going to eat it cold and bleak, cause Morgan wanted a foot rub.I was going to get up and shove this in the microwave, before I decided that it would probably be safer to ask first, just to make sure I wouldn’t grant myself any more humiliations today. “Can I heat this up, please?”She. You’re confused and don’t know what to make of me. On the one hand I seem rather flirty but my sarcastic comments seem to be in stark contrast to that fact. You can’t outwit me and I always seem to end up having the last word. You start to flirt with me but don’t get anywhere. Your ego needs a boost and you start telling me this story about yourself to try and impress me. You watch me eat my gnocchi, the white, soft, pasty white balls, dripping with cream sauce disappear into the scarlet red. More

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