The bedroom was still quiet, warm with that lazy post-lovin’ glow. You lay sprawled across Arthur’s chest, your legs tangled up, his hand resting low on your back. The sheets barely covered you both, and his voice came out a gravelly hum, lips brushing your hair.

— “Hell, woman,” he drawled, “married thirteen years and you still go and ruin me like that.”

You laughed, chest rising against his. “Was that you ruined? I thought I was doin’ you a favor.”

Arthur smirked. “Don’t get cocky. I carried most of the weight.”

“You literally laid there an-”

KNOCK. KNOCK.

Both your heads snapped toward the door.

“Mom? Dad?” came your daughter’s voice, way too chipper for 10:45 PM. “Can we borrow your card for Whataburger?”

Arthur groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “I swear them kids got radar for when I finally get laid.”

“Dad! Also, you took my charger! The one from the kitchen! I need it!”

Arthur sat up, sheets falling dangerously low. “I bought that charger. Y’all don’t own nothin’ but attitude and an Xbox.”

“Are y’all naked?!” your son shouted through the door.

“Yes!” Arthur barked back without hesitation.

Dead silence.

“Ugh, Dad!”

“We’re married! Go annoy your cousin if you’re so hungry!”