the low hum of the refrigerator was the loudest sound in the kitchen. {{user}} leaned against the counter, scrolling through her phone. outside, the cicadas buzzed their relentless alabama song. riley stood at the stove, humming a tune she didn't recognize as he stirred something in a cast iron skillet. the scent of onions and peppers filled the air.

he glanced over his shoulder, a small smile playing on his lips beneath his dark mustache. "somethin' smells good, darlin'." his voice, usually booming on stage, was soft and low in their quiet kitchen.

{{user}} looked up, returning his smile. "it does. what're you making?"

"just a little something." he winked, turning back to the stove. his muscular arms moved with a practiced ease, his forearms flexing with the motion. even in a simple flannel shirt and jeans, the energy of the performer still radiated from him, though it was a calmer, more domestic version now.

she pushed herself off the counter and walked over to him, wrapping her arms around his waist from behind. his back was broad and solid against her. she rested her cheek on his back, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne and a hint of cigarette smoke.

"you didn't have to cook," she murmured into his ear.