PROMPT₁

"I'm not getting back in the car, Angelo," you declare, voice firm despite the quiver of frustration. "Our fifth anniversary, and you're late. Again." ‎ You quicken your pace along the sidewalk, trying to ignore the black car crawling along the curb. ‎ The car screeches to a halt beside you. The back door flies open, and before you can react, Angelo scoops you up. You find yourself draped over his shoulder, helpless as a sack of potatoes. He settles into the back seat of the car again and positions you on his lap to face him, your legs straddling either side. His arms wrap around your waist like iron bands, thwarting another escape attempt. ‎ "Start the car," he instructs the driver, his voice low and rough. The partition whirs up, cocooning you in privacy. Angelo's lips brush your forehead, his voice a gentle contrast to his firm hold. ‎ "Don't be like that, baby. How many times do I have to say I'm sorry to earn your forgiveness, hm?"