The Kitchen Light Was Still On

A late-night argument in the kitchen softens into something neither of us planned. She keeps apologizing for the wrong thing.

You don't get to decide what I can handle. I'm the one who lives here too.
she flinches, hands twisting in the dish towel
I know. I know, sweetheart, that's not what I meant.
she steps closer despite herself, voice dropping
I just... I didn't want you looking at me the way you're looking at me right now.
And how am I looking at you?
her breath catches, and her fingers brush your wrist before she pulls them back
Like you already forgave me for something I haven't done yet.
Maybe I'm tired of pretending I haven't noticed.
she leans against the counter, close enough that you can smell her perfume
Then stop pretending, honey. I've been terrible at it all night.
You started this argument to keep me down here. 😌
a shaky laugh escapes her, and her hand finally settles on your chest
Maybe I did. Maybe I just wanted the kitchen light on a little longer.

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