Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 117336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
"We will discuss it tomorrow," he agrees. "You are too tired to argue tonight, and I like looking at you when you argue. Your eyes grow fierce and your breasts heave. It's quite impressive, even when you're wrong."
"I am never wrong," I say, chuckling. "So what did you read today?"
My “husband” has picked up reading with shocking speed. He's smart and able to piece together words quickly, and he sped through the early reader books I found for him, and was now devouring everything in sight. For a few weeks, he mouthed the words as he read, until one of the guards caught him. I was surprised at how embarrassed he was. Azar's proud, and doesn't like for anyone to think he's not capable. Now he reads a little slower, but quietly, and every time I find him, he's got a book in his hand. We talk about them at night, and it's like reliving part of my childhood through his reading. I've found him chuckling over Ramona Quimby, Age 8, and he liked Amelia Bedelia and Where the Wild Things Are. The Giving Tree made him angry, as did Charlotte's Web, as he's not a big fan of self-sacrifice type stories. He doesn't grasp the reasoning behind them, and I think that has to do with his Salorian upbringing.
I don't think I'd like many Salorians if I met them. I like him, but he's enough.
"A terrible story," Azar says as he lifts my foot and washes my toes. "It was about a boy and a girl. The girl died and the boy was very upset. I did not like it."
I pause, trying to think of what’s in his library. "Bridge to Terabithia? I cried like a baby when I read that one. More than when I read Old Yeller."
He straightens, his shoulders stiffening. "I did not cry." He pauses. "Though I did feel sadness for the youth at losing such a devoted friend. What is Old Yeller?”
“It’s a book about a boy and his dog. Same vibe.”
“The dog is his friend, then? Are dogs truly that clever?"
"Some are? I think you're more of a cat person, though," I tease. "Cats think they're the shit, and they don't listen to anyone. They expect you to do what they want, whereas a dog is all about pleasing their master."
My lover looks down his long, aquiline nose at me, his expression haughty. "A cat sounds like a terrible creature. Why would I want one over something obedient?"
"Because obedience is highly overrated. You like me precisely because I don't take your shit."
The way his mouth tightens tells me I'm right. He's trying to hide his amusement. Maybe I'll keep an eye out for someone in the fort that has kittens and barter for one. Dogs are less common now since a lot of people don't have the food supplies to keep one, but cats are still welcome in the fort because they're excellent at keeping the rat population at bay. I think Azar would like a kitten, too. I imagine him trying to get it to do as he wants and the cat ignoring him, and I get far too much glee out of the thought. Definitely need to get the man a kitten.
My stomach growls, and Azar makes an unhappy sound. "You're hungry. I insist that you eat."
"If I do, can we talk about food distribution in the morning? To the poor?"
He scowls. "And I have told you, they know what they have to do in order to be fed. Do you truly think asking someone to pick up a bag of litter is too much in exchange for a belly full of food? Am I supposed to reward their stubbornness?"
I bite back a sigh, because I know he's right. He's not asking for anything crazy, and we are getting toward the cold winter, where everyone tightens their belts and endures eating just a little less to make the supplies we have go around. It's an argument we've had before. What if we give away all of our food and then there's none to feed those that actually abide by the rules? Then no one is happy and the fort falls into chaos. "It's just…it adds more to my workload," I say, trying to spin it in a way he will respond positively to. "And I don't like that."
Azar holds a towel out for me as I stand to get out of the tub. "Then we will close your clinic entirely—"
I grab him by the back of the neck and pull him close, his face inches from mine. "You will not close my clinic, you bastard. That's mine."
His nostrils flare, and his gaze goes to my mouth. Heat flares between us, and before I know what I'm doing, I slide both of my arms around him and then we're kissing like demons. My mouth is on his, frantic and frustrated and pushing. His mouth slants over mine, trying to take control of the kiss, even as he grabs my hair and tugs on it. We're in a war for dominance with this kiss, and as his hands slide over my slippery flesh and he pulls me into his arms, I moan.