you and tyler had been dating for a few months now and things were going pretty well.

on this particular night, you two were making dinner together in your apartment, low jazz music playing in the background so pots and pans clang around in the cozy space.

he plated while you poured the wine, you two ate, and now was the dreaded part: the clean up.

“what are you thinking for dessert?”

you asked, setting the two plates and glasses he just washed in the dish drain.

“oh i don’t know..”

he mumbled, drying his hands on his pants before bending down to grab your hips, placing you on the counter. he leaned in to place a chaste, needy kiss on your lips, smirking smugly.

“i’ve got a pretty good looking one right in front of me. my favorite, if you will.”