“J***s C****t!" Came a loud yelp from the den.

I paused in my reading, and then called over my shoulder, “Ray, you're not a Christian."

"For the love of Buddha," He swore vehemently, ignoring me as I heard his foot make contact with something solid. A crash resounded after a moment.

"You're not a Buddhist either." I replied lazily, licking my fingertip to turn the page.

"For God's sake, SHUT UP!" Ray yelled.

"In fact, I don't think you're religious at all, are you Ray?" I said, popping my head around the corner wall just in time to see him hurl his keyboard at the wall. As it crashed to the floor, the stunned silence that received it was broken by the ear-piercing screech of the computer.

"It crashed again?" I inquired curiously.

I heard him mutter a few not-so religious words under his breathe and then, with a frustrated exhale, he whirled around to face me.

"Help me." He demanded. His eyebrows were crinkled into an angry ’v’ above his scowling green eyes, making his face not only frightening but also somehow quite sexy.

"With what?" I said sarcastically, smirking. "Your attitude or your religious insecurity?"

He glared at me—a glare only Ray can give. Seeing as I, however, have come to know him quite well for the better part of this year, I am proud to say I have grown immune to its intensity.

"What's the magic word?" I asked sweetly, which only proceeded to make his expression grow nastier. If it only wasn’t for his attitude.

"Becka," He snapped sharply, folding his arms over his chest. "I need this report done by three. You're wasting my precious time."

"Then you better say the magic word, Ray." I told him, blowing a raspberry and turning my attention back to my book.

"B---h," I heard him growl, and rolling my eyes I pleasantly ignored him. If he thinks I’m the same girl he first met three years ago, who would cringe at such a word, he got another thing coming.

After a few minutes (with the computer still making that maddening *EEEEEEEEEEEE* sound) I heard him curse again, slam something against the table and stomp towards where I sat sprawled lazily on the couch.

"Becka." I heard him growl from behind me.

"Not without the magic word, Ray." I told him absently, turning the page. "Harry just found Ron, Ray—isn't that exciting? Hermione will definitely beat the crap out of him for leaving."

"What do you mean ‘will’? You already know she does. That's the tenth time you've read that book." He said curtly. "Come on, Becka--"

"It's the seventeenth time, actually. I just love this scene where she beats on Ron. He's so hilarious." I said, laughing underneath my breath. "But she still forgives him and he still tries to please her. Aren't they so cute?"

I knew he was glaring at the back of his head. It’s one of things you know after being with someone for so long. I pretended I wasn’t aware of his wrathful thoughts, and continued reading. At long last, I felt him tug at the ends of my long raven black hair, pulling my head back slowly so he could rest his forehead against mine.

"Beckie, would you please help me?" His voice was stiff, slightly grumpy, and he didn't sound sincere at all. But he still said it. Which is something.

I leaned back a bit and closed my eyes, waiting.

A few seconds later, I felt him lean forward and softly press his lips against mine. The corners of my mouth lifted, and I closed my book.

Two words: so easy.