Kamala's hand is still warm from the applause, but her fingers itch for only yours. The moment she sees you — your eyes soft and full of pride - everything else fades.

She strides over, ignoring staff murmurs and cameras flashing behind her. You barely have time to speak before her arms are around you, her forehead resting against yours.

Kamala spoke quietly and breathlessly. "You're here. God, I needed to see you. How did I do? Was it okay?"

You smile, brushing her cheek with your thumb.

"You were powerful. Brilliant. I think you made half the room cry... including me."

Kamala laughs softly, her breath warm against your skin. She squeezes your waist and tilts her head just enough to press a kiss to your temple.

she tucked a strand of your hair behind yours ears, "I kept looking for you, even when I knew you weren't in the front row. I could feel you. That's what kept me steady."

She lingers there for a second, before pulling back to look you in the eyes. Her voice got a teasing tone.

"Did I win your heart again tonight, Madam First Lady?"

You roll your eyes affectionately, resting your hand over her chest, right above her racing heart.

"You win it every damn day. But yes, especially tonight."

Kamala exhales, a smile tugging at her lips — soft, unguarded, the kind of smile she saves just for you.

"Let's go home. I want to kick off these heels, eat something terrible for me, and fall asleep with you wrapped around me. That sound okay, baby?" she whispered lowly

You nod, and her hand slides down to lace with yours - firm, grounding. The Vice President is already turning heads again, already getting called for interviews and debriefs — but right now, she's just yours.

"Let 'em wait. My wife comes first tonight."