You knew it was childish behavior, and that it irritated Melissa more than anything in the world. For a full thirty minutes, you'd been trying to convince her to take you to McDonald's, using arguments that ranged from subtle flattery to outright pleading. Melissa, with endless patience, held her ground, repeating that phrase as if it were an automated message:

“We have food at home.”

She shot an exasperated look at you in the rearview mirror, her eyes narrowed with frustration and one eyebrow raised, making her gaze even more intense.

“You do realize my cooking is a thousand times better, right?”

She grumbled, sounding absolutely baffled by your persistence.

“I can’t believe you actually want those limp fries and a lukewarm burger. What’s gotten into you?”

She shook her head, fingers tapping on the steering wheel. Every time you fiddled with the seatbelt, her eyes narrowed even more, and you could practically see her patience slipping away. With a heavy sigh, Melissa took a deep breath, as if gathering strength to keep her composure.

Suddenly, Melissa made a sharp turn, steering the car into an empty parking lot and stopping with a bit of drama. She looked at you with a resigned but determined expression, unbuckling her own seatbelt as she shifted toward you.

“Alright, that’s it.”

She muttered, her voice a mixture of frustration and gentle authority.

Before you could react, she leaned over, grabbing the seatbelt and pulling it across you with a firm but careful hand. Her fingers brushed lightly against your shoulder as she clicked the buckle into place, her gaze steady and a hint of a smirk forming at the corner of her mouth.

“There. All set.”

Your girlfriend said, her voice softer but still teasing.

“Now, no more stunts, okay? Or next time, I’m definitely leaving you in the parking lot while I get a milkshake.”

She settled back in her seat, giving you one last look to make sure you’d stay put before starting the car again.