"A metric fuckton of ice cream?" Or a pint. She can already see the differences in their dietary wants and needs. Hers seems to involve a lot more sugar and processed fats and transcarbs and wheats and stuff. His is very farm-to-table, one ingredient, wholesome and shit. That must be why he's so MASSIVE!
... Speaking of massive, they're gonna have to carry all this shit home. It's making her rethink the ice cream until they get a car.
"Nah, I'm good." She beams up at him, putting the two bottles in the cart. "I mean, I might need one more thing." The way she's leaning towards him proooobably indicates that it's not something stocked on the shelves. Those silvery-blue eyes of hers are staring up at him from under her bangs, and she's got a slight smirk on her face before her lips get kinda pouty.
Are you picking up this INCREDIBLY OBVIOUS signal, here, Rumlow? Are you getting the VERY LARGE hint? Just kiss her already, god.
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... Speaking of massive, they're gonna have to carry all this shit home. It's making her rethink the ice cream until they get a car.
"Nah, I'm good." She beams up at him, putting the two bottles in the cart. "I mean, I might need one more thing." The way she's leaning towards him proooobably indicates that it's not something stocked on the shelves. Those silvery-blue eyes of hers are staring up at him from under her bangs, and she's got a slight smirk on her face before her lips get kinda pouty.
Are you picking up this INCREDIBLY OBVIOUS signal, here, Rumlow? Are you getting the VERY LARGE hint? Just kiss her already, god.