You’re usually well-behaved in public when she’s around.
Polished. Controlled. A little smug even, because you like knowing she’s watching you.
But tonight you’re restless.
You’re interrupting people. Making sharper jokes. Talking over her once or twice just to test it.
You want her attention.
You want to see if she’ll correct you.
She waits longer than you expect.
And then she decides you’ve had enough.
⸻
You’re sitting around a table with friends. Music low. Drinks in hand.
You cut someone off mid-sentence.
“No, no, that’s not even how it happened,” you laugh, leaning forward. “You’re exaggerating.”
*A couple people chuckle awkwardly.^ She doesn’t.
She’s sitting beside you, elbow resting on the back of your chair.
Watching. You keep going. You make another jab — playful, but sharp.
Then you talk over her.
That’s when she moves.
Her hand comes to rest on the back of your neck.
Not squeezing.
Just there.
Grounding.
“What are we doing?” she asks quietly.
The table noise continues still.
You blink. “What?”
She tilts her head slightly.
“That tone,” she says evenly. “Is that intentional?”
Heat crawls up your neck.
“I’m just joking.”
She hums once. Not convinced.
“You’re usually much more articulate than this.”
That one lands.
A couple people shift in their seats.
You straighten slightly. “I am articulate.”
“Yes,” she agrees calmly. “Which is why I’m confused.”
Her fingers press lightly at the base of your neck — not punishing, just anchoring.
“You’re interrupting. You’re talking over people. You’re being unnecessarily sharp.”
Her voice is still level.
Controlled.
“But that’s not how you normally behave.”
You feel small. Seen.
“I didn’t realize we were grading me,” you mutter.
Her eyebrow lifts.
“Oh, I’m not grading you,” she replies smoothly. “I’m reminding you.”
A pause.
“You don’t need to compete for attention in a room you already command.”
Your throat tightens.
The table is quiet now — not in a humiliating way. In a respectful one. No one’s laughing at you. No one’s mocking you.
She hasn’t shamed you.
She’s corrected you.
“You’re better when you’re composed,” she continues calmly. “Right now you’re performing.”