Avery peers her head out the ajar backdoor and glances over at her mother where she's sat reading a book, cardigan draped over her shoulders, at the rickety table in their back garden.
"Hey," She says. "I'm making tea. Do you want some?"
Sarah looks up, finger placed on the page of her book – T.H Publishing's current book club read as her lips curl into a small smile. "No, I'm good," She folds the book close over her finger. "Are you two having a nice time?"
Avery can't help the way her own lips pull into a grin. Her smile is never far away these days, always lingering in the corners of her mouth. It softens slightly as she rolls her lips together, sensing the same happening to her eyes, the skin around them creasing as she says, "He's doing the dishes."
"That's nice," Sarah slides her chair back and gets to her feet, gathering up her things – a magazine, the crossword section of a newspaper which is still undone, a pencil, a pack of bubblegum and last, but not least, the book – where they're sprawled over the table. She holds the stack to her chest as she walks barefoot across the grass, climbing up the two-step wooden stairs as she asks, "Is he staying over?"
Avery's mouth falls open, brows knitting together as she takes a step back to let her mother inside the house.
"Staying over?" She sputters before lowering her voice, afraid her voice will carry through the wall into the kitchen. "As in here? I hadn't... I don't know. Can he?"
A soft laugh escapes Sarah's lips as she pulls the door close behind her with determined force, making sure it's properly locked.
"He's doing the dishes," She says, readjusting her grip on the stack of things in her embrace. "He can stay however long he wants."
Avery shifts on her feet, casting her eyes to her hands as she picks at the strip of nail polish on her thumb. "I don't know."
"It's okay by me if you want to ask him. Granted Anna's fine with it, of course."
"I... yeah. Maybe."
Sarah's smile stays in place, nose scrunching up as she cups Avery's chin in her palm and places a kiss on her forehead. "I've had a long day so I'll be reading this is bed. Don't stay up too long."
The corners of Avery's lips pull into a smile for a short second before falling back into a line, drawing some air in through her nose as her mother's previous words begin to properly set in her mind. "Good night."
"Night, honey."
Avery lingers in the living room a moment longer, walking over to the chest-high bookshelves running along one of the walls and grabs her phone from where it lies next to a stack of coffee table books on home interior. She ignores the clammy feeling to her palms as well as how aware she is of her every breath – every sensation suddenly seeming heightened but she tries to push it all to the back of her mind as she distracts herself with opening up her 'messages' tab.
She opens up her group chat with her friends, typing a few replies to the conversation that has been in full swing earlier this evening before moving on to the group chat she's in with Callie and Lea, scrolling through the ongoing conversation communicated entirely through GIFs, shooting out a few of her own before setting the phone back down onto the top of the bookcase. Running her hands down her skirt once, she presses her lips together and draws air in through her nose.
♡♡♡
Ethan turns his head her way as she walks through the doorway of the kitchen and her lips twist into the faintest smile.
"Mom headed upstairs."
"Yeah I know," He says, smile on his own lips. "She came to say good night."
"Oh."
Crossing the room, she tugs at the sleeves of her sweater to cover her palms as she takes the electric kettle off it's place in the corner of the kitchen counter, leaning across him to steal away the tap for a moment. Her lips twist up further – bringing back that smile she always seems to sport nowadays – as he feigns a breath of annoyance.
Setting the kettle back into it's place, she prepares a pot of tea as the water begins to simmer. Leaving the glass pot stood in it's spot, she rounds him and heaves herself up in a seat next to the sink on the counter. She crosses one leg over the other, holding her hand out for the saucepan he's just rinsed off to place it in the dish rack behind her.
Her eyes narrow as he flicks some dish water her way, lightly kicking his leg with her foot before she holds her hand out for the next cooking utensil. She smiles as one of his curls fall into his eyes, reaching over to push it back.
"You didn't have to do that, you know," She says, taking the salad bowl off his hands as he drains the dish water. "I could've dealt with it later."
"Trust me, I would not have been able to relax knowing that pile was in the sink."
"Oh," She reaches over towards the oven, grabbing the linen towel where it hangs across the handle and gives it to him. "You're one of those."
"One of those?"
"Not being able to stay away from cleaning up a mess once you lay your eyes on it," She shrugs. "I'm used to it, Lea's the same."
She bites down at her lip. There she goes again, referring to her friends in conversation. She's been doing that a lot these past few days, she can't even help the way the words so easily slip her tongue. The small space of silence allows for the music playing from the bluetooth speaker on the window sill to fill the room, it's mellow tones soft background noise and she hums along under her breath.
Letting her gaze linger on his features, fingers itching to reach out to push through his hair once more, she watches as he wipes his hands on the towel. Her cheeks tighten with her smile as he glances up, meeting her gaze with a small smile.
"How's that tea going?"
She rolls her eyes, jumping off the counter to go pour the boiled water into the prepared pot of glass. While it steeps, she turns around to grab two cups from a cupboard, a chortled noise escaping her lips as he loops the towel around her waist, holding onto both it's ends as he takes a step closer. She tilts her head back to look at him, the corners of her lips – still set in a smile – twitching.
"Hello there." She reaches up on her toes, reaching over his shoulder to get the cupboard open.
Out of the corner of her eye she notices the left corner of his mouth twitch. "I see you've become more familiar with the inner workings of cupboards."
"Oh hush."
She sets the two cups down on the counter, lowering herself down onto her heels as she presses a fleeting kiss to the corner of his mouth before side stepping him as he lets his hold ease. They should go ahead and bring their tea into the living room so that they can get on with watching the show before he has to leave for home. Unless she asks him to stay.
She swallows, palms growing clammy once again as she sets the pot of tea and the two cups on a small tray. Her mother's words pushes to the forefront of her mind, seeming to drum along to the beat of her heart as it speeds up, goose bumps prickling her skin. She could ask him to stay – not for another hour like the two previous nights they've spent here, but all the way to the morning. Is that something she wants? Is that something he would want?
Her breath hitches in her throat as his palm comes to her hip, the warmth of his skin radiating through the fabric of her skirt. With her heart beating hard beneath her sweater she leaves the tray stood on the counter, turning around on her heels as she lets him pull her back in. She balls her hands up before sprawling her fingers, trying to keep up a somewhat casual demeanor as she tries her best to shut out the thoughts running on a loop in her mind.
His eyes flickers over her face with a soft smile, one of his arms still securely wrapped around her waist as his finger hooks beneath her chin. Her already warm cheeks heat up more, but she's not sure if it's the motion at hand or the fact that they're beginning to strain under the smile she never seems to be able to shake for long causing it.
She loops her arms around his neck, fingers sprawling through his hair as they kiss and she holds back the urge to roll her eyes at herself as her lips split in a grin when they part. Balling up her hands, she rests them on his chest as her breathing grows slower. She tilts her head back, lips falling into a soft smiley pout as she holds his dark gaze. Dragging her lip between her teeth, she holds her breath.
"Do you want to stay here tonight?"
♡♡♡
"Would you stop eating the dough?" Avery flattens the ball of cookie dough in her hands, putting it next to the others on the baking sheet. Tearing another piece of dough off from where it lies in one big lump in the baking bowl, she places it in Ethan's palm. "Here, make this into a cookie and put it on the sheet."
"You're no fun."
Avery forms another cookie, dropping it onto the baking sheet next to the other one. "You'll get sick if you eat all that raw dough."
"Pretty sure that's a parenting myth."
"Pretty sure it's not," Avery watches as he sets his flattened out piece of dough onto the sheet before setting down another one of her own. "Now that wasn't too hard was it?"
He rolls his eyes, reaching across her to grab another small piece of dough and she shakes her head with a smile as he shoots her a pointed look, popping it into his mouth. Quickening up her pace of rolling dough into cookies, she motions for him to do the same – it's time they get them into the oven.
It's taken them far longer than it should've to make the batter, having gotten distracted by their teamwork – or lack there of, both too stubborn in their commentary on the other's way to go about baking – while whipping it together.
She throws a glance over her shoulder, the digital clock above the oven shows they've just passed ten minutes past one a.m. Any sane person would probably deem it too late to be making chocolate chip cookies from scratch – especially on a Wednesday night but for the two of them it'll be the perfect snack for starting season three of Brooklyn Nine-Nine. The show's set on pause on the TV in the living room right this moment, waiting for them to return with the salvation to their sweet tooth urges.
"Okay!" She exclaims, clapping her hands together before grabbing the baking sheet as he places his last cookie upon it. It's soon swept from her hands, leaving her stood in her place as Ethan turns on his heel.
"You're not going anywhere near that oven," He says and blocks her path as he puts the tray into the oven before whirling around, determinedly placing his hands on her shoulders. With a light press of his palms he forces her to take a few steps back and she laughs. "I'm serious. We don't have time for any injuries – we have a show to watch."
"Oh good, for a moment there I thought you were considered about my well being."
"Please," He feigns a scoff he lets his arms fall to his sides. "It's not like we're friends."
She tries to drop her smile, attempting to give her poor jaw a break from beaming and laughing – her cheekbones positively hurting now but no matter how hard she tries her lips continues to pull back into a grin. The warmth added to them almost makes her feel her smile as it reaches her eyes.
Casting her gaze to her hands, she runs her thumb over the finger where there was once a burn mark, having faded with the summer weeks and her increasing tan. "Of course we aren't."
"You've got some flour on your cheek."
"What? Where?"
Ethan's faint smile pulls back further as Avery wipes her hand over her cheek. "Well," He laughs. "Now it's everywhere."
She turns on her heel, a small laugh escaping her own lips as she's about to go look in the mirror to wash it off. She's barely taken one step before his fingers wrap around hers, whirling her back around with a tug of her hand. Raising her brows expectantly, she looks up at him.
"What's the rush?" He asks. "We have like, what? Seven minutes of waiting left?"
"Are you trying to Seven Minutes in Heaven me, Ethan Taylor?"
"Because you and heaven belong in the same sentence."
A huff of air leaves her lips. "Rude. But if you don't want to that's fine. I might as well just go wa–" She cuts herself off, laughter bubbling up her throat as he catches her by the waist and loops his arms around her.
"I never said I'm opposed to the idea."
"Too late now," Her cheeks ache as she rolls her lips together, holding back her smile as she throws a glance over his shoulder at the oven's timer. "And your seven minutes just went down to six."
He lifts his thumb to her face, brushing it over her cheek before letting it drop to her dimple. A chortled noise escapes him as she runs her own thumb over his cheek, mimicking his motion as she lets it drop to his mouth. "What are you doing?"
"What are you doing?"
He shrugs. "Just thinking of how we should get that pot of tea ready."
Reaching up on her toes, she lets her arms fall around his shoulders. "Sure you are."
His eyes flickers across her face, pursing his lips. "What are we down to?"
She shoots a glance over his shoulder. "Four minutes – give or take."
"The tea can wait, right?"
She's already cupping his cheek with her palm to bring his lips to hers as she says, "Definitely."
♡♡♡
They're sat on the kitchen floor. Avery's pretty certain the TV has shut itself off by now, they never did make it back to the living room – the first episode of season three long forgotten now that they're sat here talking.
Breaking a cookie into two, she sends a batch of crumbles into her cross legged lap. She hands one of the pieces to him where he's leant against the kitchen table, his legs extended out long. She's beginning to feel the tiredness creep over her but she's in no rush to get to bed. It's nice being sat here together and a small part of her is glad they're putting off the question of actually going to bed until they have to – especially since they're supposed to go to bed together. She knows she'll be tired while at work tomorrow, but just being here with him makes it worth it. She likes to hear him speak his thoughts out loud.
It's not the first time they've stayed up late together but it's the first time they've stayed up late together. No phones. No texts. Just them, a batch of slightly burnt chocolate chip cookies and cups of lukewarm tea. Somehow when it comes to Ethan Taylor she doesn't mind missing out on sleep much.
She cups her palms around the mug of tea, bringing it to her lips as she scoots back to lean against the kitchen counter. A while ago they fell onto the topic of Ella and he smiles as he bites into the cookie, referring to having just spoken about them spending a short while at the playground in the city park with his sister when Avery got off work this afternoon as he says,
"I think it's really nice of you to just go along with it. Hanging out with her," He rolls his eyes as a softness crosses his face. "Entertaining all her ideas."
Avery lifts her shoulder in half a shrug. "I'm just glad she thinks I'm cool enough."
He laughs. "She adores you."
Her chest swells with warmth at the words a she reaches for another cookie. Ethan helpfully lifts the plate, extending it towards her so that she doesn't have to completely fold over herself to reach it. She smiles, beginning to pick at the cookie to separate one of the chocolate chips.
"I mean," She begins, popping the chocolate into her mouth. "I enjoy hanging out with her. I never get to do those things with my sister."
A beat of silence passes before she realizes what she just said and she abandons the cookie, glancing up. These are dangerous waters. This is bigger than the stupid remarks. This is bigger than hopes for their futures. This is the past – this is opening a door leading deep below the surface. This is peeling off the lawyers of drawing patterns on suntanned skin, of kissing beneath the rays of the sun and getting soaked through while running through the rain.
He regards her, eyes widening ever so slightly as his brows knit together. He's waiting for her to continue but as she opens her mouth, about to deter the subject all together, nothing comes out and she presses her lips shut again. His tone is careful – as if he too realizes they've wandered out into unknown land – when he speaks.
"I didn't... realize you have a sister."
She exhales slowly, nodding. "Amelia – she's seven," She says, breaking the cookie into two and pops the pieces into her mouth. "On my dad's side. And then there's Leo and Zander – my brothers. We don't see each other much so..."
"Must be hard."
"I'm used to it. I mean... he's trying his best but yeah," She peels at her already flakes nail polish. "I guess – sometimes – it's not that fun."
Another beat of silence passes between them, as if he's waiting for her to make the next move. Allowing her to decide whether to continue or put a stop to this conversation, not putting any pressure to sway her in either direction.
The first few words are spoken softly. Carefully. Not out of hesitance, but out of a place of the unknown. She usually doesn't speak about this, she's not exactly sure how to go about it but soon she finds the words spilling out of her – beginning with the year her father left their family, and Acebridge, behind to go live with Eva.
She continues on to tell him about how she hasn't seen Amelia since her sister was still a toddler. It's been five years. Leo was just a mere months old back then. Zander, born a year later, she hasn't met at all and she wonders if her father even realizes that. She knows them through photos and the stories told by her father during their phone calls, desperately clawing onto every straw that comes her way.
She talks of how sometimes she feels as if she's stuck in a circle of empty promises. Promises of national holidays spent and family vacations to come along on. She takes small pauses when she runs out of breath, as if remembering first then that in order to exhale she needs to inhale air too.
Continuing on by speaking of the phone calls with her father, she tells of how they often last for a long time and how some days it's the best thing to happen while on others she finds herself wishing she'd never picked up the phone in the first place. She always does pick up though. That's thing about never knowing if there'll be a day or five months before the next call, she cannot afford to miss one. Not to speak of how she knows there'll be an underlying reprimand of her having declined the call the next time they speak, no matter how long passes.
Guilt begins to flare in her chest as she speaks, worry beginning to creep through her mind as she hears herself and her eyes cast to the hem of her skirt, rubbing the fabric between her fingers as she tugs at it.
"But he's doing the best he can do," She says, putting a stop to her rambles – worrying about sounding as if she's badmouthing her father and she does believe her own words. He's doing his best. She pushes the faint voice in her head calling her a liar to the back of her mind. Her father must be trying his best. She has to believe that. The alternative isn't too nice of a thought. She interlaces her fingers in her lap. "He is. It just... sucks sometimes."
Ethan regards her before drawing his knees up, letting them fall apart as he rests his elbows upon them.
"I've been wondering," He admits. "I mean... you don't mention him much. I didn't want to ask because... Well, in my experience – most times – if someone stays quiet about something it's because they don't really want to talk about it, no matter the reason."
"Yeah maybe."
He pauses, as if considering his next words. "And sure, in most cases it doesn't hurt to ask but every once in a while you come across a moment where maybe it would've been better to just let it be – where your good intentions only end up cutting deeper into a scar that's on the verge of healing."
She nods, pursing her lips together. "I like that. It's true," Tapping her fingers against the ceramic of her cup she sighs, "Sometimes I wish he'd never left you know. And then, other days, I catch myself thinking maybe we're better off anyways."
She bites her lip as the words leave her tongue, another worry filling her chest – twisting her heart. Can she really talk about this? Can she really be so ungrateful for what she does have? Is it really right for her to speak about this in this way – on the brink of complaining?
Ethan notices the change of her demeanor, his brows knitting together in concern – which makes it even worse and he extends his leg, lightly nudging her with his foot. "What's wrong?"
She lets her head fall to her palm, pinching together the skin above her nose. "I'm sorry."
"Sorry about what?"
A pang of guilt runs through her as he crosses the floor, looping his arm around her to bring her head to his shoulder. He nudges her again and she looks up, a flash of hesitance crossing her eyes.
"I just... feel dumb rambling on about this when...," She trails off but it doesn't take him long to catch onto where here sentence was heading, visibly swallowing with a clench of his jaw before he shakes his head.
"Those are entirely different things."
As she doesn't say anything he twists in his seat, his arm still lingering around her shoulders as he tucks a few loose strays of her hair behind her ear, holding her gaze as he says, "Waters. They're very different. Okay?"
She nods, averting her eyes as she reaches for the plate of cookies but there's still a bitterness threatening in her throat as she sinks back against his arm. She isn't entirely convinced.
♡♡♡
The street lights cast striped of shadow across the dark asphalt, illuminating the road as it meshes together with the faint eclipsed moonlight which dances across the surface of the deep blue ocean stretching into the horizon.
Avery sips her iced chai as she messes with the radio consoles to find another song good enough for their late night car ride. It's been a good day. A good week. A little bitter sweet.
As of yesterday she's spent her last hours as an intern at T.H Publishing. On Monday she has no office to return to, no time to keep. No obligations, no plans for the day – for the week. Mid-August is just around the corner. Her weeks at T.H Publishing have come and gone – and soon she'll say the same for summer.
She leans back in her seat, slurping the drink which is nothing more but melted ice at this point as she wraps her arm around herself. A trail of goosebumps run up her skin, the AC of the car working wonders of turning her once warm skin cold and as she hums along to the pop song under her breath she notices how Ethan reaches his hand out to dial the heat up without a sound. The faint never-seeming-to-leave smile on her lips deepens, capturing the straw of her drink between them again as she twists on her seat to look at him.
The night bathes in darkness outside the windows of the car, the shadows cast across the road traveling over his skin as they pass by the lights lining the road. Her gaze travels across his silhouette – the focused purse of his lips, the small bump on the slope of his nose, the few stray dark short curls falling into his face. She can see his lips lift into a smile without even having to take her gaze to his mouth, the twitch of his cheeks enough of a tell.
The song on the radio has transcended into an ad-break but for once she doesn't pay much attention – barely noticing the ridiculous ads she usually sighs heavily about. Ethan takes his eyes off the road to shoot her a glance.
"What are you thinking about?"
Her smile widens, cheeks warming and straining in a slight ache the way they've done all week long. She easily scrolls to the next radio channel playing music. "Nothing."
He reaches across the center console and she relaxes back into her seat as she lets him wrap his hand around hers, intertwining their fingers.
♡♡♡
She can tell something's wrong as soon as they pull into the driveway.
Ethan flickers his eyes between the dark windows of the house and the clock on the display of the car, shoulders tensing. "Oh. Fuck."
He kills the engine and steps out of the car. She's quick to follow, letting her hand slip into his as he holds his palm out for her.
His eyes flicker over the dimly lit hall as they step into the house, soon setting on a string of light slipping into the living room from the kitchen. A long exhale escapes his nose as he steers his steps towards it, not letting go of her hand and she simply trails behind through the room and around the corner to where they come face to face with Anna sat at the built in bar counter. She looks up from her phone at the sound of their footsteps, the phone she's held clutched in her hand dropping to the black marble as relief crosses her face.
"Sorry," Slips Ethan's lips. "I didn't realize how late it is."
"You call," A strained breath escapes Anna along the words. "That's all I ask – you call."
"My battery ran out," Ethan releases Avery's hand, lifting his own to scratch the back of his head. His eyes cast to the floor. "I forgot... I didn't think about – I'm sorry."
At his words, Avery slips her own phone out of her pocket as she remembers her own screen went pitch black a long while ago. She flickers her eyes back up just as Anna nods and she swallows, excusing herself by pointing to her phone and mumbling something about her mother.
Once up the stairs and in Ethan's room she grabs his charger from where it lies on the floor next to his bed, plugging it into the wall and waits as the black apple lights up the white screen.
She's met with a few notifications – the top one being a couple of text messages from her mother, alongside two missed calls. The rest – messages within both group chats with her friends and Lea having tagged her in the comment section on an Instagram post – can wait. She taps on her messages, immediately ending up in the conversation between her and Sarah.
'mom <3'
Hi honey, I hope you're having a nice night. Anna's been trying to reach you guys. Call her back <3
There's a time space of an entire hour between that text and the next.
Avery? I'm sure you're just having fun but call me when you see this <3
She heaves a cross of a sigh and an exhale as she taps the bubble to text back.
i'm so sorry <3 my battery ran out (should have brought a charger i know). we're at ethan's now!! <3
do you want me to call? <3
The response comes within minutes.
No no that's fine. Goodnight honey.
goodnight <3
♡♡♡
She meets Anna at the landing of the stairs and the woman lightly squeezes her shoulder as she bids 'good night' while Avery smiles with her own bidding of 'good night' alongside an apology for them having gone off the grid. Anna simply shakes her head, saying it's okay before heading up the next set of stairs to her bedroom. Avery continues down the stairs to the first floor, finding Ethan perched on the armrest of the couch in the living room. His legs are extended out long, heels digging into the rug. He glances up as she comes through the wide doorway, his frown crossing into a smile but it doesn't match his eyes.
She walks over to him on soft footsteps, having kicked her shoes off in his room and places her legs on either side of his as she's stood in front of him. She gently places her arms around his neck, forearms resting on his shoulders as he tilts his head back to look at her. She curls one of his short dark locks of hair around her finger, a soft smile on her lips.
He seems sad. That's the first word that comes to mind as she gazes over his face. It's quite the contrast to the evening they've spent together and her brows dip together as she spots the familiar crease – never seeming far away – having appeared between his eyes. Un-looping one of her arms from his neck, she gently presses her thumb to the crease and it brings out a smile of him – a real one. It soon slips away, his lips falling back into a line but it still lingers in the corners of his mouth, offering her a small sense of accomplishment. She's never seen him like this, and her chest weighs heavy with her breath.
She's seen him disappointed before. She's seen him frustrated. She's seen glimpses of what could be sadness. Upon messing up while on the field. Upon losing a game. But this isn't that. This is different.
This is a different kind of melancholy.
She parts her lips to speak only to close her mouth again – not sure where to begin, what to say. She wants to lift him up, reassure him the way she would've liked someone to do if she was the one feeling down but she's not sure how to.
Regarding him, or rather the wall built up before him – offering a peek but not letting her see everything hidden behind it, she speaks again. "Do you want to watch Brooklyn Nine-Nine?"
He glances up at her through his dark eyelashes, nodding once.
"Then that's what we'll do," She says, mimicking his nod but she doesn't move an inch. Instead she remains stood with her arms around his neck. "You're kind of great, did you know that?"
Her heart lightens ever so slightly as the words has his lips cracking into a smile. "Did Avery Waters just compliment me?"
"She sure did," She says, taking a step closer. "And now she's talking about herself in third person."
A small laugh escapes him and a breath leaves her lips as she lets her arms fall to her sides, palms running along his shoulders before dropping them into his hands as he holds them out in front of him.
He lets his forehead fall to her chest and she intertwines their fingers the way he usually does as he asks, "Lemonade?"
"Lemonade."
♡♡♡
There's still a tenseness to Ethan as they sit down in the couch and Avery can't shake the heaviness weighing on her own chest. She has an inkling of what the change in his demeanor is about – her brain having slowly begun to piece the puzzle pieces together while back in the kitchen.
She scoots closer to him now. Part of her wants to prod him – wants to hear him say it. Wants to make it go away. Or maybe not go away – but offer a little light at least. But what does she say? Maybe there's nothing to say. Nothing for her to say. Not in this moment.
She recalls his words from the other night. It's only been a few days but it feels like forever ago.
Well, in my experience – most times – if someone stays quiet about something it's because they don't really want to talk about it, no matter the reason.
She needs to be here for him.
In most cases it doesn't hurt to ask but every once in a while you come across a moment where maybe it would've been better to just let it be – where your good intentions only end up cutting deeper into a scar that's on the verge of healing.
His way.
That's how she needs to be here for him. Her way. But his way too.
Setting the glass of lemonade down on the coffee table, she melts into his side and lightly traces a pattern on his palm. The episode is playing on the TV but she's barely watching the screen. Her eyes are busy flickering to his face, tongue pressing to the roof of her mouth as she gazes across his features.
It takes a little while but eventually he notices, eyes dipping to hers as she – again – takes her eyes off the screen to watch him. Instead of reprimanding her, telling her to watch the show he simply lowers his head and her eyes flutter shut as he brushes his lips against her hair in a kiss.
Her lips twitch into a soft smile as she bats her eyes open, reaching up to gently cup his cheek as she presses a light kiss to his jaw.
. . .
love you lots, always.
yours, L.