Im Not Small
My Sassy GirlfriendYou giggle to yourself as you watch your girlfriend tiptoeing and stretching with all her might, trying to reach for a cookie jar placed on a high shelf in the kitchen.
You were the one who left it there a couple of days ago because well, it was not too big a feat for you since you were much taller. You snicker even louder when the dwarf of a girl started to whine and groan to herself about how it to be someone her height.
Sneaking up from behind her, you grab the jar and hold it just above her head, waving it with a complacent grin on your face. She pouts almost instantly and folds her arms, expecting you to give in. Nodding softly, you bring the jar down and pop it open before reaching in to pick up a cookie.
The pout on her face disappears, a small smile taking its place promptly. But it doesn’t stay for too long. A grimace surfaces when you take a huge bite out of the chocolate chip biscuit.
“Mm… this is really good… chocolate chip’s my favorite,” You grin and push past her, sauntering back into the living room.
“Yah!” She follows behind, unable to keep up with your long strides.
Settling back onto the couch, you hug the jar of cookies close to yourself, pretending to be engrossed in the stupid game show playing on television.
“Lee Yonghyo,” You hear her call your name. From the corner of your eye, you could see her putting her arms on her hips in a frustrated manner. How cute. You could all day long.
“Yes, baby?” You answer, still not looking at her.
“I saw those cookies first.”
You chuckle through your nose, “Well, that’s too bad, isn’t it? I got them first.”
She stretches an arm out and bosses you in her thick American accent, “Give them back right now.”
“I didn’t know gnomes liked cookies.”
That did it.
She pounces onto the couch and starts slapping you all over, “You’re not very tall yourself, you conceited jerk!”
“But at least I’m taller than some people out there!” You joke, trying to shun her attacks. But she just keeps coming at you. It was starting to hurt so you let go of the jar, “Fine, fine… take it, it’s all yours.”
“Thank you,” She throws you a glare and scoots to the other end of the sofa, wanting to stay as far away from you as possible.
You stuff the remainder of the cookie into your mouth and speak in a rather muffled voic
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