"It's over," Clark whispered.
"It's over?" Lois asked, startled, hating how pathetic she sounded. She thought she'd have some time to prepare before the breakup.
"The movie's over." He stroked her hair, smoothing the mess his own hands had made, completely oblivious to the mess he'd made inside Lois's mind. "How about dinner?"
"Oh! Right, the movie. What else could it be, right?
Poor Lois. Her anxiety got the better of her.
Red and white roses. How many were there? Could the colors combined with the number of flowers be some kind of code for I really like you but I've discovered it's not that much and I think we should call it quits?
Now she's getting paranoid.
"Um, I... Lois... I have to go." His hands slid from her hips and Lois suddenly felt cold. "I have to... Turn off the stove!
Ah, the lame excuses. They would pop up sooner or later.
Thank you for another delightful part.
Andreia
