Honey wherever you go, I know
There is definitely sand. It's been calling from inside the house this whole time.
His foot jerks away at the first brush of bristles, thinking little of it. At each continued pass though he ends up dancing with all the same moves of a high noon show down. "Hey, hey!" he admonishes, nearly losing balance of his lava chip as he contends with her bustling, retreating to the edge of the sink as though she'd been after the space and not him. It at least keeps him out of reach, permitting him to burn in peace.
He drifts back to claim another chip as she plucks one up, only pausing to watch her inevitable taste test bloom into agreement. Instead, she oh so daintily takes a bite into his expectations, forcing out a blustering "W H A T!" His hands flop up with the effort of taking the bait. "Look!" He leans over the pan, pointing at a little curled up piece of meat, the sort of crumb you might not realize had even fallen off your breakfast's bacon and remained on the plate. It glimmers with grease all the same, a rhinestone embedded in the cheese. "Some of it made it on, and all of that flavor mixed in," he argues, completely unserious but needing to defend himself against the heinous claims.
"Plus," he accuses, taking that pointer finger and poking it into her arm. "They're all your sorry ingredients." The oven had never even been on the table, and a laugh breaks through the faux drama for the ridiculousness of it all. "You're right though," and mischief curls at the corner of this new admission as he fetches another mouthful of chip and cheese (and an itty bitty pepper). "Apologies, apologies, your majesty, this meal is unfit for a queen of your standards, so I will do my lowly duty and consume it all." He sets his back to her, body blocking easy access to the pan.
His foot jerks away at the first brush of bristles, thinking little of it. At each continued pass though he ends up dancing with all the same moves of a high noon show down. "Hey, hey!" he admonishes, nearly losing balance of his lava chip as he contends with her bustling, retreating to the edge of the sink as though she'd been after the space and not him. It at least keeps him out of reach, permitting him to burn in peace.
He drifts back to claim another chip as she plucks one up, only pausing to watch her inevitable taste test bloom into agreement. Instead, she oh so daintily takes a bite into his expectations, forcing out a blustering "W H A T!" His hands flop up with the effort of taking the bait. "Look!" He leans over the pan, pointing at a little curled up piece of meat, the sort of crumb you might not realize had even fallen off your breakfast's bacon and remained on the plate. It glimmers with grease all the same, a rhinestone embedded in the cheese. "Some of it made it on, and all of that flavor mixed in," he argues, completely unserious but needing to defend himself against the heinous claims.
"Plus," he accuses, taking that pointer finger and poking it into her arm. "They're all your sorry ingredients." The oven had never even been on the table, and a laugh breaks through the faux drama for the ridiculousness of it all. "You're right though," and mischief curls at the corner of this new admission as he fetches another mouthful of chip and cheese (and an itty bitty pepper). "Apologies, apologies, your majesty, this meal is unfit for a queen of your standards, so I will do my lowly duty and consume it all." He sets his back to her, body blocking easy access to the pan.
Kaisel
I'd give up half of forever, just to be with you
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
