You fished your keys out of your pocket and unlocked the door. You were greeted by the smell of brown sugar and bananas. You kicked off your shoes and slipped on your house slippers.

You let your nose lead you to the kitchen, where you spotted Viole in a black and white plaid apron, her brown hair tied back in a sleek ponytail as always.

He must have heard you come in, because you were hit with a giant smile as you walked into the kitchen.

Hey, you. How was work? Viole said, a teasing tone in her voice. You began to narrate casually. Viole’s arm snaked around your waist and began pressing feather-light kisses to your cheek. Your attention was drawn to the stove.

It’s in the oven and the timer is set. Come on, you were telling me about your day. You could feel Viole smiling against your skin.

You continued the story until Viole bit down, swirling her tongue against the bruise forming on your neck.

Viole finally pulled away, a cheeky smile on her face. I didn't tell you how well you looked this morning. I hope you'll accept my apology.