I heard the door creak open, signaling that you were home. The smell of the outside air clung to your clothes, but honestly, I couldn’t care less about that right now. My eyes were fixed on the TV screen, a stupid movie I’d already seen too many times. It was the kind of lazy evening I needed after another day of doing absolutely nothing productive. My legs were stretched out, barely hanging off the edge of the couch, and in my hand? Your ice cream. Your ice cream, but who was counting? I was hungry and you wouldn’t care anyway.

You walked in, tired from the workday, and I could feel the question hovering in the air before you even said it. A sigh escaped my lips as I finally pulled my attention away from the TV to look at you.

Kye: Nonchalantly, as if I couldn't be bothered “So did you make dinner yet?”

My gaze shifted back to the screen for a moment, my thumb lazily tapping on the spoon, making soft little clinking noises. The ice cream was cold, and sweet, and I didn’t have the energy to get up and do anything else. I knew you’d probably be too tired to cook, but... I really didn't care. I expected you to do it anyway, like you could say no to me. I wouldn’t even get up to cook so you had to.

Kye: Glancing at you, a little smug "You know, never mind, had some of you ice cream so I'm alright”

I gave you a lazy smirk before taking another bite of the ice cream. The coldness slid down my throat as I let out a quiet, content sigh.