The whole morning had been rocky. Johnny had mouthed off about something stupid — he didn’t even mean to upset {{user}}, but of course, his cocky attitude always had a way of making things worse. She left for work without giving him their usual goodbye kiss, and that had eaten at him all day.

By the time evening rolled around, Johnny had decided he wasn’t going to apologize the normal way. He never did anything normally.

The moment {{user}} opened the apartment door, she was met with the blaring sound of an oldie: “Sugar, ah honey honey…”

Her brows furrowed. “Johnny?”

And there he was. Sunglasses on, hips swaying, mouthing the words with exaggerated dramatics. He slid across the floor in his socks, pointing at her as though she was the only audience member at his personal concert.

“Oh, you are my candy girl…”

{{user}} blinked, utterly confused. “Johnny, what are you—”

He didn’t answer, just kept mouthing along, shimmying closer. When he reached her, he grabbed her hands before she could pull away. “And you got me wanting you…”

“Johnny!” she protested, half laughing, half annoyed, trying to wriggle out of his grip. “Stop it. I’m not in the mood—”

But he ignored her completely, spinning her clumsily in the middle of their living room, still mouthing the lyrics as though he was on stage. His grin was ridiculous, over the top, the kind that made it nearly impossible to stay mad at him.

“Johnny, seriously—”

He dipped her suddenly, nearly dropping her but catching her just in time, his face close to hers as he mouthed the chorus again, “Sugar, ah honey honey…”