heart turns black

I’m not bugged. I genuinely don’t give a shit if you eat or not.

You don't seem like you're not bugged. I'm getting buggy vibes. 

"Would a please kill you?”

"Mm... Yeah, probably." 

Then you just need to break it with a healthy food binge.

That... that just might work. 

Did you have a nightmare where you were being chased by tacos? 

...No. I just woke up and the craving wasn't there. 

Self-discipline finally kicking in?

Trust me, this isn't something I want. 

katiematlinrps:

                 You’re not getting the fucking point, are you? God— just— take your hot rain and get away from me. Hell— I bet you aren’t even fun to drink with anyway.

If the point was the make you frustrated, then I got it. 

"I’m still not buying your tacos."

"Damn it! Buy a taco!" 

At this point you’ve been so picky that I don’t give a shit if you starve yourself. But sure, a taco salad.

Starving doesn't sound fun. Bugging you has been fun, though.

An empty chair is not an open invite for you to sit.

Wow. I'm sorry, are you waiting for someone? 

C’mon. You know that’s not what I meant— now you’re just tryin’ to soften the blow. Hot rain clouds— god damn. Hot rain clouds. What are you gonna come up with next? Cold sun? Warm snow? Temperate hurricanes?

I take it you've never been to New Mexico. It only gets down to 85 degrees when it rains. Hot rain. 

And you’re about as hot as one. C’mon— I wasn’t even being sarcastic there.

Sure it wasn't. You can have heat and rain clouds at the same time, so thanks. 

Well, they don’t call me the Sunshine of Birdcage for nothin’.

Well, that seems like obvious sarcasm, since you're about as sunny as a rain cloud. 

                               And thank fuck for that. I was beginning to worry I’d accidentally married a bitch. Good to clear that one up.

Man, I am so glad I spoke to you. Really, it's improved my day so much. So much.

Are you just going to sit there, or are you going to pour me a drink?

I'm not your mother and I'm not your wife; you got two hands, pour yourself a drink, booboo.

M-maybe you’re sick? I hope not but that could be the case, ah, or something. I couldn’t imagine waking up and n-not wanting tea. Which I feel could be on the same l-level as you and your tacos…

That could honestly be the problem. I mean, really. It's tacos! How do I not want tacos!? 

Chemistry? What does that entail? Eh, the art of disguise. 

Unspecified chemistry. The art of disguise? What does that entail?