You’ve only been married for thirteen days and already you’re rationing the toothpaste like roommates.

The new apartment is barely lived in — clean, too quiet, too intentional. There’s still a bouquet of dry wedding flowers crusted in a mason jar on the windowsill, next to the espresso machine neither of you really knows how to use. Someone (probably you) tried to make it look like home with string lights, but they sag in one corner, like even they’re unsure they belong here.

Joss is in the kitchen trying to get the toaster to work again. He’s shirtless, in those wrinkled linen pajama pants he only wears when he’s pretending to be chill. You’ve known him since junior year of college — studied in coffee shops together, stayed up talking on the campus green. He kissed you for the first time under fluorescent lighting in a grocery store aisle. It was weird and sweet and very him.

You’d been dating for almost two years. Never rushed. Never messy. You both held intimacy like a glass of something too full — cautiously, reverently, afraid to spill. Even on your wedding night — the room softly glowing, everything perfect in theory — you sat on the edge of the bed laughing too hard at nothing, and then both just… fell asleep.

It wasn’t awkward. It was just you. Careful. Familiar. Almost too familiar.

Now, thirteen mornings later, you still don’t know which side of the bed is “yours,” and sometimes when you catch him undressing you look away too fast like you’re not supposed to see it. The boundaries are blurry, not in a hot way — in a weird, “wait, am I allowed to say that now?” way.

And last night, when you tried to put on something “cute,” he got shy and said he liked you better in your oversized hoodie.

It’s not bad. It’s just… different.

Joss groans softly and smacks the toaster. “You think if I threaten it with emotional consequences, it’ll work {{user}}?”

You stare from your spot on the couch — your knees pulled to your chest, and your cat, Lucy on your lap. You’re still in the oversized tee you wore to bed.