"Cripes. Why'd you haveta' go and fall in love with me?" I told more than asked, judging by my tone. I leered at the woman across the table as her attention turned to the chicken on her plate. My eyebrows did that thing where they scrunch up in the middle, and a subtle pout etched itself upon my lips. She sliced off a piece of the breast, and looked me straight in the eye as she shoveled it into her mouth for mastication. I couldn't really look her in the eye at that point. Not after what she just said. Though, I may be going crazy now as it seems that there's a delicate smirk lurking in the chewing motions of her mouth.
Why is she doing this to me? What does she stand to gain? Those are the questions of the day.
This changes things. For example, the meaning of this meal that sits in front of me. It was my favorite the best thing this joint has on its menu. Now, I can't even pick at it. Looking at the beef and crispy fried potatoes kinda makes me sick at the stomach now.