Love Spell

Garrett stared at her.  He at once felt weightless, as though all of his burdens were gone, as if they'd never even existed.  Somehow, she had cut his soul free, a balloon floating on the barest of tethers.  He had nowhere to be right then, except with her.  He smiled, and took her hand.  If he could just touch her, she would understand.

"Stop it." Cadence glared at him, pulling her hand away, and turning away.  She muttered under her breath, and he caught the words "damned old woman".  He grabbed her arm so he could see her face.  Her eyes were emeralds glittering, her lips rubies...he lost his train of thought, because Cadence kicked him in the shin. 

 "I'm not a priest," Garrett blurted, still holding her arm.  He needed to tell this woman the truth.  Or close enough. "I'm an actor."

"Mister, what you are is bespelled,"  Cadence said. "You are lovesick, the victim of a powerful love spell, and the only cure is for me to get as far away from you as possible, and hope the symptoms fade."

"That's impossible," Garrett laughed. "Magic doesn't exist.  But you are a goddess. Who wouldn't fall in love with you?" 

He moved in closer, thinking that he might try for a kiss, but Cadence put her palm on his chest.

"Goddess, huh? Whatever. You're a riot, Mister."  Cadence's mouth quirked, a small, hysterical giggle escaping.  "Do you see any other idiots besides you lining up? And magic does too exist. You're experiencing it right now."

"If I agree with you, will you kiss me?"




 

The prompt is the third definition of the word WHATEVER.  Yeah, I didn't think there was such a thing, either, but there it is. 

This continues a story from way back in 2013.

Moobs need Support

So I'm driving down the road and I see a guy jogging without his shirt. This would not be noteworthy except that this guy had what we call 'moobs' and they were bouncing with every step. Seriously, I almost swerved off the road because I was concerned that he might hit himself in the face with one of those puppies.

Women who jog and want to keep their breasts from ending up around their waitline wear some sort of jog bra. Well, men need to wear some sort of support of their pectorals as women do, at least in public.

If not for yourself, do it for me, a random strange person. Thank you.