do you believe i'm terrible in bed? mal is just jealous he's never felt the brush of my lips. i would be too if i were him. then i'll deal with it. how unromantic that sounds. it will be more romantic in bed. it wouldn't be a reflection of your skill. like i said, i've quite literally never given up control to anyone, for anything. i've heard it can be freeing, but i still have my doubts. i'm very stubborn, you know. but i've thought about it. how it might feel to not have the pressure of your own thoughts. just for a moment. i have a lot of thoughts.
it was friendly consideration. good friends don't let you sleep with people who they think might be terrible in bed. i'm trying to decide which answer will motivate you more. is it yes, or is it no? "then i'll deal with it" is probably the least poetic thing you've ever said to me, and it's still done nothing to turn me off. it'll be a little insulting if i'm naked in front of you and you start thinking about your laundry and schoolwork. i bet you never shut up even in bed. which isn't really a problem in this case. what really matters is whether you trust me or not with something like that. do you?
[ a beat and then, because 'perhaps' is the epitome of 'very stubborn' — ]
then you're very lucky to have him as a friend. i just question the basis of this wild assumption of his, is all. i'm quite motivated either way. you do an excellent job at that. i'm not sure we'll get through this bottle of cristal or even the sunrise, for that matter. well, not laundry and schoolwork, per se, but that sort of thing does happen to me frequently. not as much with you, because you tend to already take up a good chunk of my brainpower, but in general. zoya finds it incredibly irritating. the world is a better place when i speak. i do. trust you, i mean. i would trust you with this. i've never regretted telling you anything. except maybe the thing about spiders.
something about you being "stupid rich and kind of famous", so you don't have to rely on skill when you have those things to fall back on. you have to admit he has a point. if i didn't know better, i'd think you're feeling a little impatient. too bad i can't call zoya to come lecture you if you start thinking about something other than me. that would make for an awkward story. i wouldn't go that far. i do like the sound of your voice, though. good. this would end terribly if you didn't. but i'm happy that you do. it means more than you know.
a small point. minuscule, really. and it certainly doesn't apply to me, because i was an overachiever straight from the womb. well, now that we've brought up all these delightful things to ponder, yes, i am feeling a bit impatient. but i still want to see you in these rabbit ears. it's a priority. if you tell zoya my mind wandered away in the middle of a conversation, she will fill your head with awful half-truths about me. pay her no mind at all. she is basically mal. i love the sound of my voice. isn't wonderful, isn't it? it could still end terribly, but i'm sure it will make for a grand tale several months and/or years from now. at least we'll know trust had nothing to do with it. the blame will likely fall on me, in any case, but hopefully you'll still like me despite it.
i'll be the judge of that. talk is cheap, lantsov. only a bit impatient? do i need to try harder? don't worry, you'll get your wish. just don't try to drag me out into the snow while i'm wearing them tonight. are you just trying to steer me away from learning all of your embarrassing secrets? maybe i need to get zoya's number from mal after all. the number of times i've regretted telling you the truth because it inflates your ego: 501. i'm willing to take that risk. and if it does end terribly, i won't blame either of us. you're putting a lot of pressure on yourself to be good at something you've never tried before. it's not a big deal if it doesn't work out.
talk, yes. just not mine. have you forgotten what i told you about my self control already? forward desperation is simply not in my nature. i do, however, wish you were here right now. i'd probably stop the car on the side of the road and take you into the backseat. an empty road. i do respect your privacy. my whole bunny ear fantasy was in the snow, alina. it can't be helped. i prefer to curate the secrets people know about me. for example, it's fine if you know that my worst birthday was because my mother hired a clown for the party, but not fine if you know that i once flushed an entire bottle of her xanax down the toilet. she was cross with me for weeks, and in hindsight, i probably shouldn't have done that. high numbers are always best. makes me feel like i'm winning. ah, but that's one of my defining traits. i'm always good at everything the first time. i'm not sure how i'd cope if this stopped being true.
it was a joke. and not one i regret making if that's your answer to it. of course. you're a gentleman to the very end. for the record, i think i could make good use of your driver's seat, too. not just the backseat. be warned i freeze easily. you have no one else to blame when my fingers turn into ice. it's almost like your mother wanted to traumatize you from the start. a clown? really? there's a lot of things we shouldn't have done in hindsight, but we did them. i'm sure you had a reason for it. or was it just teenage rebellion? you're impossible. and no, i don't mean improbable. but that too. if i'm ever asked, i'll lie and tell people you were perfectly good at everything the first time. i'm serious, though. i wouldn't hold something like that against you.
it sounds like you want to make me crash my car but have a very enjoyable death. don't fret. i'll keep you warm. i don't remember why i did it. probably teenage rebellion.
[ it's easier to gloss it over with that. he's almost annoyed with himself that he keeps coming so close to truths that he never had any intention of sharing. something about alina just makes him want to be wholly honest, and, well. he's never been the best at being truthful — not out of malicious intent, but simple self-preservation.
he also finds himself hesitating, another irritating trait he's disused to. ]
are you experienced in that sort of thing? do you enjoy it as well?
you've caught me. whatever will i do now that you've unveiled my nefarious plan. was that the teenage phase that you never grew out of? because i have a feeling you're still a rebel at heart. you did sneak out for me.
[ it's a less confrontational reply than what immediately springs to her fingers on instinct before she reconsiders and erases it: sure you don't remember, in all of its skepticism. cornering an animal that resists entrapment has never ended well, after all, and nikolai is a slippery sort.
for now, she files it away into her folder of subjects to address at a later time, stubborn and persistent to the end. ]
i've given up control before. it's not something i mind with the right person. i just mind that it was with the wrong person who i thought was the right person at the time. but have i had anyone give up their control to me? once or twice. it's not the sort of thing you do with just anyone. does it make you feel better or worse to know that we both barely know what we're doing?
i suppose now you have no choice but to kill me. don't broadcast it. everyone else thinks i gave up rebellion in my youth. besides, the sneaking out has less to do with me being a rebel and more to do with how much i miss you.
right. how pesky of him. oh, it makes me feel much better. the worse an idea, the more i'm inclined to love it. and i'm glad to hear i'm not just anyone to you. any other sentiment would've trampled all over my feelings.
they really were right when they said the female of the species is more deadly. that's because you have everyone else fooled. somehow. can't it be both? i miss you, too. even your awful jokes that make my eyes want to roll out of my head. it's much easier to show my disapproval of them when i can see you.
pesky isn't the word i would choose when you've trusted someone that much and they end up betraying that trust. i don't know. it's complicated, and this isn't about him. my whole point is that it's difficult to place yourself in someone else's hands and expect them to take care of you. obviously you're not just anyone to me. you could never be just anyone. but nothing is stopping you from backing out except for your pride if you really think it's that terrible of an idea.
i prefer my women deadly. it makes the day far more exciting. somehow? i won't stand for this to be attributed to luck. my sparkling wit and charm are the real culprits. your expressions of affection toward my jokes are missed as well. it really isn't the same when i can't see your smiling face.
it was the first word to come to mind and i felt he didn't deserve further thought. well, if we're sharing a moment of honesty, then yes. it is quite difficult to place yourself into the care of someone else. i don't make a habit of it and the entire notion is largely unappealing. but when it's you, it becomes tolerable. exciting, even. you're not just anyone, either. i wasn't making a joke back there. i genuinely love bad ideas. anything worth doing typically starts out as one. promise me there will be many more in our future.
never knowing when i might decide to strangle you must keep you on your toes. i stand by "somehow". mostly because it annoys you, and being frustrating is what i was made for. next time, i'm going to stop myself from smiling at all. that just encourages you to make worse jokes about how unbearably handsome you think you are.
aren't we always sharing a moment of honesty?
[ a dangerous, regrettable amount of honesty at times, especially. but, beyond that — ]
largely unappealing for you, maybe. some people have different tastes. "tolerable" isn't reassuring or high praise, but i'll accept "exciting". i'm full of bad ideas. regularly. daily. my entire lifetime. just look at my past choices. it's still not very romantic to imply i'm one of your bad ideas, though.
the possibility of sudden death does keep me young. please don't stop smiling at me. i would miss it terribly. perhaps we can come to an agreement where you smile when you're annoyed with me and frown when you think my jokes are funny.
a deeper one, then. i can't spill all my secrets at once. do you feel ready to place yourself into someone's hands again? this is why we get along so well. we're both bad idea enthusiasts. i think you probably thought that i was more of a bad idea at first than the other way around. i knew getting to know you what an excellent idea from the start. especially since i needed your washing machine.
i was going to make a black widow joke, but then i realized i'd traumatize you for life. then i would never frown because your jokes are never funny, and i'd lose the ability to let people know i don't like them. 😊
thank god zoya is the keeper of all of your secrets. i won't even have to bribe her to get access to them. unless she decides she hates me, which would be awkward for everyone. yeah. if they were your hands. not that i need that. i want you. the specifics and the details don't matter. oh, i thought you were the worst idea when we met. you were arrogant, annoyingly charming, and you wouldn't stop talking. maybe you still are a bad idea. i should have known you were just using me for my washing machine.
i knew i shouldn't have told you about the spiders. i don't know why you keep telling me i'm not funny. i can't wrap my head around it.
zoya is a bit too keen on trying to embarrass me. i doubt she'll hate you, unless mal does something awful and she decides to hate you by association. now that would be awkward. my hands are a good choice. they like you already. i had a lot of things to say that night. it was a trying time for me. i thought zoya was going to smother me in my sleep. maybe i am, but things are good now. we'll deal with everything else as they come.
don't worry, i'll kill all of the spiders that sneak into your house so you don't die of a heart attack, you big baby. maybe you can write an awful poem to thank me for being your savior. you can't comprehend anyone not liking you, can you?
that makes two of us. i'm sensing a new partner in crime. your faith in mal is so inspiring. he's not going to do anything awful. probably. maybe. he's not exactly the settling down type. from what you've told me, neither is zoya. that might be a disaster waiting to happen. do your hands like me already? i haven't seen any evidence of that. i was more surprised you kept trying to talk to me. it's either very brave, very stupid, or very insane to flirt with a woman who wanted nothing to do with you at first. for what it's worth, i'm glad i failed at scaring you off. i think you're one of my better ideas after a string of bad decisions.
my hero. i would write you some poetry if i didn't worry you might never speak to me again after being subjected to it. i really can't. it's a notion beyond even my comprehension.
dear god, i would hope they don't settle down. who'll bring me my snacks if zoya is always off being reckless with mal? my hands were respectably liking you from a distance. once we've made ourselves cozy on my veranda, however, i think they'll want to try a different tactic. i was surprised. surprised that i even wanted to talk to you. you were a good decision i hadn't planned on making. i was quite opposed to the idea, actually, but who am i to fight inevitability? especially when it's an outcome a part of me genuinely wants.
you already subject me to odes to your own beauty. i think i can handle your poetry. you're an acquired taste. don't expect everyone to share my tolerance.
even reckless veranda-destroyers and secret-spillers deserve love, nikolai. honestly? zoya would be a blessing. i'm getting tired of mal's conquests trying to get in his good graces through me. it never works. is this going to be a surprise tactic? you're trying to leave me in suspense. that's unfair. i thought you didn't believe in inevitable things like fate. don't tell me i've changed your mind.
well, of course she deserves love, but does it have to be so soon? can't she wait another ten or twenty years? our adventures are unfinished and mal is not invited. that's rather desperate, but i suppose i could see the reasoning if they really were so enamored with someone. must be quite irritating for you, though. it won't be that long until we see each other. i think you can handle a little unfair suspense. i don't. you just happen to be some sort of inexplicable anomaly. trust me, i tried wanting to not want you. that was a rather agonizing morning.
your jealousy is showing. no one is coming to steal zoya away from you. you can survive without her attention for five seconds. stop trying to ruin my matchmaking. i don't blame them for being desperate. he's mal. of course they're desperate. but zoya is a better choice. i won't ever have to wonder if she actually likes me or if she's using me to get to mal. how long? ten minutes? twenty? forty? that's too long for suspense. i deserve a hint. so you're admitting i wore you down just by existing. that's a first for me. i am very hard to get rid of, though. you never stood a chance.
if your matchmaking dramatically alters my life, we will revisit this topic. what is that supposed to mean? he's mal. as if he's so desirable. it's true that zoya is perhaps the worst liar i've ever met. she has no poker face. you will always know where you stand with her. less than an hour. 58 minutes? your existence is quite the cannonball, but i'm happy to be crushed by it. was that a good first line for a poem?
good luck trying to stop me. i'm pretty sure my meaning was obvious. you have looked at mal, right? not to mention he's probably the most loyal person i've ever met and has the biggest heart. zoya is in good hands. i'm 90% sure she's going to end up hurting my feelings, but i respect brutal honesty more than i respect liars. 58 minutes is practically still an hour. you're going to kill me. romantic and borderline nihilistic. i suppose it'll do for a first line.
all i'm saying is that i need my snacks. i try not to for extended periods of time, but yes. i've looked at him. i suppose he has a rather nice jawline. not quite as nice as mine, but whose is? honestly, it's not zoya i would be concerned for. don't die before i give you these bunny ears. i would take it quite personally. i'll see you in 57 minutes?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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then i'll deal with it. how unromantic that sounds. it will be more romantic in bed.
it wouldn't be a reflection of your skill. like i said, i've quite literally never given up control to anyone, for anything. i've heard it can be freeing, but i still have my doubts. i'm very stubborn, you know.
but i've thought about it. how it might feel to not have the pressure of your own thoughts. just for a moment.
i have a lot of thoughts.
mm. perhaps.
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i'm trying to decide which answer will motivate you more. is it yes, or is it no?
"then i'll deal with it" is probably the least poetic thing you've ever said to me, and it's still done nothing to turn me off.
it'll be a little insulting if i'm naked in front of you and you start thinking about your laundry and schoolwork.
i bet you never shut up even in bed. which isn't really a problem in this case.
what really matters is whether you trust me or not with something like that. do you?
[ a beat and then, because 'perhaps' is the epitome of 'very stubborn' — ]
🙄
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i'm quite motivated either way. you do an excellent job at that. i'm not sure we'll get through this bottle of cristal or even the sunrise, for that matter.
well, not laundry and schoolwork, per se, but that sort of thing does happen to me frequently. not as much with you, because you tend to already take up a good chunk of my brainpower, but in general. zoya finds it incredibly irritating.
the world is a better place when i speak.
i do. trust you, i mean. i would trust you with this. i've never regretted telling you anything. except maybe the thing about spiders.
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you have to admit he has a point.
if i didn't know better, i'd think you're feeling a little impatient.
too bad i can't call zoya to come lecture you if you start thinking about something other than me. that would make for an awkward story.
i wouldn't go that far. i do like the sound of your voice, though.
good. this would end terribly if you didn't.
but i'm happy that you do. it means more than you know.
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well, now that we've brought up all these delightful things to ponder, yes, i am feeling a bit impatient. but i still want to see you in these rabbit ears. it's a priority.
if you tell zoya my mind wandered away in the middle of a conversation, she will fill your head with awful half-truths about me. pay her no mind at all. she is basically mal.
i love the sound of my voice. isn't wonderful, isn't it?
it could still end terribly, but i'm sure it will make for a grand tale several months and/or years from now. at least we'll know trust had nothing to do with it. the blame will likely fall on me, in any case, but hopefully you'll still like me despite it.
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only a bit impatient? do i need to try harder?
don't worry, you'll get your wish. just don't try to drag me out into the snow while i'm wearing them tonight.
are you just trying to steer me away from learning all of your embarrassing secrets? maybe i need to get zoya's number from mal after all.
the number of times i've regretted telling you the truth because it inflates your ego: 501.
i'm willing to take that risk. and if it does end terribly, i won't blame either of us.
you're putting a lot of pressure on yourself to be good at something you've never tried before.
it's not a big deal if it doesn't work out.
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have you forgotten what i told you about my self control already? forward desperation is simply not in my nature. i do, however, wish you were here right now. i'd probably stop the car on the side of the road and take you into the backseat.
an empty road. i do respect your privacy.
my whole bunny ear fantasy was in the snow, alina. it can't be helped.
i prefer to curate the secrets people know about me. for example, it's fine if you know that my worst birthday was because my mother hired a clown for the party, but not fine if you know that i once flushed an entire bottle of her xanax down the toilet. she was cross with me for weeks, and in hindsight, i probably shouldn't have done that.
high numbers are always best. makes me feel like i'm winning.
ah, but that's one of my defining traits. i'm always good at everything the first time. i'm not sure how i'd cope if this stopped being true.
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of course. you're a gentleman to the very end.
for the record, i think i could make good use of your driver's seat, too. not just the backseat.
be warned i freeze easily. you have no one else to blame when my fingers turn into ice.
it's almost like your mother wanted to traumatize you from the start. a clown? really?
there's a lot of things we shouldn't have done in hindsight, but we did them. i'm sure you had a reason for it. or was it just teenage rebellion?
you're impossible. and no, i don't mean improbable. but that too.
if i'm ever asked, i'll lie and tell people you were perfectly good at everything the first time.
i'm serious, though. i wouldn't hold something like that against you.
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don't fret. i'll keep you warm.
i don't remember why i did it. probably teenage rebellion.
[ it's easier to gloss it over with that. he's almost annoyed with himself that he keeps coming so close to truths that he never had any intention of sharing. something about alina just makes him want to be wholly honest, and, well. he's never been the best at being truthful — not out of malicious intent, but simple self-preservation.
he also finds himself hesitating, another irritating trait he's disused to. ]
are you experienced in that sort of thing?
do you enjoy it as well?
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was that the teenage phase that you never grew out of?
because i have a feeling you're still a rebel at heart.
you did sneak out for me.
[ it's a less confrontational reply than what immediately springs to her fingers on instinct before she reconsiders and erases it: sure you don't remember, in all of its skepticism. cornering an animal that resists entrapment has never ended well, after all, and nikolai is a slippery sort.
for now, she files it away into her folder of subjects to address at a later time, stubborn and persistent to the end. ]
i've given up control before. it's not something i mind with the right person.
i just mind that it was with the wrong person who i thought was the right person at the time.
but have i had anyone give up their control to me? once or twice.
it's not the sort of thing you do with just anyone.
does it make you feel better or worse to know that we both barely know what we're doing?
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don't broadcast it. everyone else thinks i gave up rebellion in my youth.
besides, the sneaking out has less to do with me being a rebel and more to do with how much i miss you.
right. how pesky of him.
oh, it makes me feel much better.
the worse an idea, the more i'm inclined to love it.
and i'm glad to hear i'm not just anyone to you.
any other sentiment would've trampled all over my feelings.
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that's because you have everyone else fooled. somehow.
can't it be both?
i miss you, too. even your awful jokes that make my eyes want to roll out of my head.
it's much easier to show my disapproval of them when i can see you.
pesky isn't the word i would choose when you've trusted someone that much and they end up betraying that trust.
i don't know. it's complicated, and this isn't about him.
my whole point is that it's difficult to place yourself in someone else's hands and expect them to take care of you.
obviously you're not just anyone to me. you could never be just anyone.
but nothing is stopping you from backing out except for your pride if you really think it's that terrible of an idea.
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somehow? i won't stand for this to be attributed to luck. my sparkling wit and charm are the real culprits.
your expressions of affection toward my jokes are missed as well. it really isn't the same when i can't see your smiling face.
it was the first word to come to mind and i felt he didn't deserve further thought.
well, if we're sharing a moment of honesty, then yes. it is quite difficult to place yourself into the care of someone else. i don't make a habit of it and the entire notion is largely unappealing.
but when it's you, it becomes tolerable. exciting, even.
you're not just anyone, either.
i wasn't making a joke back there. i genuinely love bad ideas. anything worth doing typically starts out as one.
promise me there will be many more in our future.
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i stand by "somehow". mostly because it annoys you, and being frustrating is what i was made for.
next time, i'm going to stop myself from smiling at all. that just encourages you to make worse jokes about how unbearably handsome you think you are.
aren't we always sharing a moment of honesty?
[ a dangerous, regrettable amount of honesty at times, especially. but, beyond that — ]
largely unappealing for you, maybe. some people have different tastes.
"tolerable" isn't reassuring or high praise, but i'll accept "exciting".
i'm full of bad ideas. regularly. daily. my entire lifetime. just look at my past choices.
it's still not very romantic to imply i'm one of your bad ideas, though.
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please don't stop smiling at me. i would miss it terribly. perhaps we can come to an agreement where you smile when you're annoyed with me and frown when you think my jokes are funny.
a deeper one, then. i can't spill all my secrets at once.
do you feel ready to place yourself into someone's hands again?
this is why we get along so well. we're both bad idea enthusiasts.
i think you probably thought that i was more of a bad idea at first than the other way around.
i knew getting to know you what an excellent idea from the start. especially since i needed your washing machine.
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then i would never frown because your jokes are never funny, and i'd lose the ability to let people know i don't like them. 😊
thank god zoya is the keeper of all of your secrets.
i won't even have to bribe her to get access to them.
unless she decides she hates me, which would be awkward for everyone.
yeah. if they were your hands.
not that i need that. i want you. the specifics and the details don't matter.
oh, i thought you were the worst idea when we met. you were arrogant, annoyingly charming, and you wouldn't stop talking.
maybe you still are a bad idea. i should have known you were just using me for my washing machine.
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i don't know why you keep telling me i'm not funny. i can't wrap my head around it.
zoya is a bit too keen on trying to embarrass me.
i doubt she'll hate you, unless mal does something awful and she decides to hate you by association. now that would be awkward.
my hands are a good choice. they like you already.
i had a lot of things to say that night. it was a trying time for me. i thought zoya was going to smother me in my sleep.
maybe i am, but things are good now. we'll deal with everything else as they come.
no subject
maybe you can write an awful poem to thank me for being your savior.
you can't comprehend anyone not liking you, can you?
that makes two of us. i'm sensing a new partner in crime.
your faith in mal is so inspiring. he's not going to do anything awful. probably. maybe.
he's not exactly the settling down type. from what you've told me, neither is zoya. that might be a disaster waiting to happen.
do your hands like me already? i haven't seen any evidence of that.
i was more surprised you kept trying to talk to me.
it's either very brave, very stupid, or very insane to flirt with a woman who wanted nothing to do with you at first.
for what it's worth, i'm glad i failed at scaring you off. i think you're one of my better ideas after a string of bad decisions.
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i would write you some poetry if i didn't worry you might never speak to me again after being subjected to it.
i really can't. it's a notion beyond even my comprehension.
dear god, i would hope they don't settle down. who'll bring me my snacks if zoya is always off being reckless with mal?
my hands were respectably liking you from a distance. once we've made ourselves cozy on my veranda, however, i think they'll want to try a different tactic.
i was surprised. surprised that i even wanted to talk to you.
you were a good decision i hadn't planned on making. i was quite opposed to the idea, actually, but who am i to fight inevitability?
especially when it's an outcome a part of me genuinely wants.
no subject
you're an acquired taste. don't expect everyone to share my tolerance.
even reckless veranda-destroyers and secret-spillers deserve love, nikolai.
honestly? zoya would be a blessing. i'm getting tired of mal's conquests trying to get in his good graces through me. it never works.
is this going to be a surprise tactic? you're trying to leave me in suspense. that's unfair.
i thought you didn't believe in inevitable things like fate. don't tell me i've changed your mind.
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that's rather desperate, but i suppose i could see the reasoning if they really were so enamored with someone. must be quite irritating for you, though.
it won't be that long until we see each other. i think you can handle a little unfair suspense.
i don't. you just happen to be some sort of inexplicable anomaly. trust me, i tried wanting to not want you. that was a rather agonizing morning.
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you can survive without her attention for five seconds. stop trying to ruin my matchmaking.
i don't blame them for being desperate. he's mal. of course they're desperate.
but zoya is a better choice. i won't ever have to wonder if she actually likes me or if she's using me to get to mal.
how long? ten minutes? twenty? forty? that's too long for suspense. i deserve a hint.
so you're admitting i wore you down just by existing. that's a first for me.
i am very hard to get rid of, though. you never stood a chance.
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what is that supposed to mean? he's mal. as if he's so desirable.
it's true that zoya is perhaps the worst liar i've ever met. she has no poker face. you will always know where you stand with her.
less than an hour.
58 minutes?
your existence is quite the cannonball, but i'm happy to be crushed by it.
was that a good first line for a poem?
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i'm pretty sure my meaning was obvious. you have looked at mal, right?
not to mention he's probably the most loyal person i've ever met and has the biggest heart. zoya is in good hands.
i'm 90% sure she's going to end up hurting my feelings, but i respect brutal honesty more than i respect liars.
58 minutes is practically still an hour. you're going to kill me.
romantic and borderline nihilistic. i suppose it'll do for a first line.
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i try not to for extended periods of time, but yes. i've looked at him. i suppose he has a rather nice jawline. not quite as nice as mine, but whose is?
honestly, it's not zoya i would be concerned for.
don't die before i give you these bunny ears. i would take it quite personally.
i'll see you in 57 minutes?
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