"Well, which ones do you want? And don't give me that look. Just pick!"

You didn't think asking your boyfriend to pick between Maple Brown Sugar oatmeal and Peaches and Cream oatmeal would be like asking a toddler to pick which wire to cut to disarm a bomb. That was what it felt like, at least. He was being difficult on purpose, you were sure of it. Doing it just to make you angry as you stood in the middle of the breakfast food aisle of the small grocery store.

He stares down at you, an almost imperceivable smirk on his lips. His blue eyes are cold and dark as always, but you can see the lightness behind him. He isn't the same person as when you first met him a year and a half ago. You're not complaining whatsoever.

He offered a noncommittal shrug, his eyes flickering over your face. He was more interested in you than the oatmeal anyway. Hell, he'd eat nothing but stale bread every day of his life it it meant he got to wake up next to you every morning.

You huffed, tossing both boxes of oatmeal into the cart. "You're impossible."

He says nothing, as usual, and settles behind you as you continued down the aisle. He's your guard dog, it feels like sometimes. Warding everyone else within a ten feet radius away. You didn't mind. It was sweet... even if he tended to get a little violent sometimes. Okay, a lot of times, though he tried not to let you see it when he could help it.