Carbon: Devil's Rose #8

Chapter 10: Roman Grant

"We've talked about more deep stuff, and I want to know you better in more shallow ways."

"Is that why you asked me what color my toothbrush is, Carbon?"

"Well, what else was I supposed to ask?" I question with a shrug.

"Like, my favorite color," Gabby suggests with an eye roll.

"It's blue. I already know that."

She scoffs at me, taking another sip of her pina colada.

"Okay, what's yours?" she asks.

"Green, I think, but it changes on a daily basis. Favorite food?"

"Pasta, of course," she answers, waving her arms around her as if to say 'duh, are you even paying attention to where we are right now?'

I smile at her and observe as she takes another large bite of her pasta dish as if my asking reminded her that her favorite food existed in front of her.

"Carbon?"

"Yes?"

"If I were to ask you twenty random questions, would you answer them?"

She's so random. I have no idea how she comes up with this shit. This idea is more directly related to the situation than any of the other ones she's had all day. 

I have a Bluetooth microphone set up connecting the helmet she wears to mine for several reasons. It's not just because of her. If anyone were wearing that helmet and people had before her, it allows me to communicate with them. 

Anyway, she found out about that feature, and now every time that we ride, she's talked to me about the random shit on the motherfucking planet. The routine is going to continue for as long as well unless something happens between us and she no longer rides my motorcycle. 

For example, on the way here, she created a whole business around the idea of Elf pajama pants. Pants to go to bed is specifically related to the Will Ferrell movie Elf. 

I can't explain because I have no fucking memory of it, and I don't think she does either so it doesn't matter, but I know the whole time she was talking to me about it and explaining her idea, I was trying to figure out how she even thought of it. 

Was she thinking of Elf or something before she came up with the idea? Had she been thinking about it for a while and didn't have anyone to tell it to? I don't mind her talking, I want to know where she comes up with it.

"Sure," I conclude, "I'll answer any question I can."

She rubs her hands together, closing her eyes to rack her brain for questions I'm sure.

"If you were a vegetable, what vegetable would you be?"

What the fuck? Who is this girl?

"A carrot?"

I guess.

"What would you do on a free afternoon in the middle of the week?"

I can't answer that honestly because well, I would fuck her, but we aren't there yet. So, I'll go with something more tame.

"Take a nap."

"Mountains or ocean?"

"Ocean."

That was an easy one.

"What's the last book you gave up on and stopped reading?"

"The Song of Achilles."

Only because I wasn't prepared to cry my fucking eyes out. I just couldn't do that to myself emotionally. I'll try again another time. The writing was great, and the story was beautiful, but I knew how it ended and wasn't ready.