Jerza Shorts

Kitchen Tiles

RATED K

It was late at night, a few minutes to midnight. Everyone had left to their homes an hour ago and the Fernandes couple were left to clean everything up as expected.

It was their first time hosting the annual event; an event only for the rich to know and enjoy. They had been to a few before, but they never knew hosting would be so difficult and tiresome.

All night, they were separated from another, attending to every guest. They could only lock their eyes on one another for a second before another guest calls them to greet. It was easy to imagine them sighing in relief as soon as they were once again alone in their home.

With tired eyes, they stood lazily, leaning against the kitchen counter and clinked their glasses with red wine swirling in each. Flashing a smile at one another, they let the drink flow down their throat.

Erza took a moment to eye the empty glass in her hand. The amount of champagne she had while hosting was not enough to quench her thirst just to be near her husband. But now he's here beside her and she couldn't feel more at peace.

From the glass, her eyes went to land on his, catching him staring at her with a wide grin.

"What?" she questioned with a smile of her own.

"Nothing," he said. Nothing always meant something though. Despite being in the same room with her all evening, he missed her. Her warmth, especially.

He was excited when she leaned closer to his face. Even after the many times they've kissed, he still gets giddy to feel her close to him. But he was brought disappointment when she turned to the sink with his glass that he didn't even notice her taking away from his hand. That sly fox.

She didn't bother washing the glasses, but only turned back to face him after placing the glasses in the sink. And as expected, he was quick to have his hands on her waist. He pressed his forehead against hers when she had her arms around his neck.

"Hey," he called and she hummed in response. He took a second to stare at her with soft eyes. Jellal still had trouble believing that the woman he had in his arms was actually his wife. Could anyone even believe? "I love you."

"I love you, too," she giggled. Those words, despite being said and shown by him many times, her stomach still received that feeling of butterflies fluttering around.

His hand flew to the stereo on the counter beside the sink, and turned on the music. With a sigh, his feet moved with hers in a rhythm. He never gets tired of dancing with her. Many danced at the gala except them as they too busy to, but he didn't mind. Dancing alone with her was better.

He gets to feel as if no one else was in this world except them while the music went along with the sound of their shoes tapping softly against the kitchen tiles. It was as if nothing could break them apart or interrupt their moment. He really loved her. And she loved him. It was more than they could ever wish for.

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Would it actually be right to rate it K w the mention of wine or am I overthinking-