Ain't Nothing But A Pretty Face

Are you alright?

Oh yeah, everything's just peachy fuckin' keen, Sunshine. 

He heard her shift and from his peripheral vision, spotted Winnie getting up. After a moment, Andrew lifted his head and almost immediately regretted it. Sucking in a breath, he kept his eyes fixed on hers as she tossed her bra onto the ground. ”What are you doing?” The ripples circled and spread further and further away from the source as Winnie stepped into the water. He watched her from where he was with more interest than he would admit. Thankfully, she had her bare back to him.

My gods. Sounds terrible. 

It's fuckin' horrendous! 

Andrew’s Winnie! I thought he made you up.

Oh no, no, no, sweetheart. God, no. That, like, doesn't sound.... right. 

Did Winnie Mae Jones just admit she likes my company? That deserves to go into the history books.

Oh, fuck off. 

You barely know me. 

Listen you shit. I know you enough to want to be around you. [Gritting her teeth, Winnie swallowed hard.]

Really. Now move unless you want to be covered in blood.

Oh fuckin' quit it! Fuck, Andrew Lane doesn't pull this type of shit. Winnie Jones does.

What are the chances of this working?

Andrew..... really?

At least it’s color, right? It’s much prettier than being in a bleak old room with slightly off white walls.

You smug little shit! 

So you’re Andrew’s Winnie?

Andrew's what? 

So someone broke in and decided to turn all your shit your least favourite colour? Who’d you piss off?

Yeah, this is real fuckin' amusing, honey bee. Fuck, I bet it's Willie. I just - whatever. 

You should find who did it and turn their house fucking pink. 

Or I could always lodge my foot up their ass.

I thought all girls love pink?

Mon dieu, no! No, no, no. No - just fuckin' no.