“You have known me two days, Victor, darling.” Summer gave him a suspicious look. “I’m not going to dis love at first sight, but really. Oh, um … I don’t drink coffee. I have that machine to make hot chocolate and cider, actually.”
He looked a little sheepish then. “Sorry, would you like me to fix you a cup of either then?” Victor paused a moment. “Right, well, you don’t have to love someone to care about them. I can’t say that I love you because I’ve only known you for two days yet, I’ve just shagged you which, for me, implies some level of caring. Like I said already, I’m not the shag ‘em and leave ‘em type. At the very least I feel comfortable around you but this is your house and if I’m being a little too forward I can leave.”
“You’re starting to sound like me,” Summer returned wryly. “If I wanted you to leave, I’d say so.” She collected forks and sat down at the table, watching Victor. “I’m not really complaining. Just … confused. I can’t remember the last time someone /wanted/ to shag me. Much less,” she gestured around, “/spoil/ me.” With quick, economical motions, she tied her hair in a lovers’ haste knot.
“Am I? Starting to sound like you?” he asked, “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Victor smirked then made a show of checking her over with his eyes. “You can’t remember the last time someone wanted to shag you? That’s ridiculous, you’d have to have been living under a rock in order for that to happen. And if you think this,” he returned her gesture regarding the food, “is spoiling then you haven’t seen anything.” Victor shrugged. “I’m a bachelor with money at his disposal, I tend to be a little generous cos in all reality I’ve no need for all of it.” He rocked back on his heels a little bit, he wasn’t the type to flaunt and horde his money, he liked to give things away to his friends and anonymously help out non-profits. “Anyways, what would you like to drink?”
“Victor, darling,” she drawled, folding her arms, “I would /really/ appreciate it if you’d stop insinuating I’m a liar. There’s the end of some apple juice in the fridge. Now,” she leaned forward, “I am, again, not complaining. It’s your money, you do what you like. I’m not ignorant of your — hmm — appreciation? But you have to understand, I’ve been alone in that way far too much of my life, and your particular regard is very unfamiliar to me.” Summer sighed, leaning back and looking down at her hands. “Frankly, I don’t know what you see.”