the house felt slow and warm, the kind of quiet that settled in during late afternoon when nothing urgent was supposed to happen. sunlight spilled through the open windows, dust motes floating lazily in the air. jenna sat at the dining table this time, chair pulled close, script laid flat in front of her like something fragile. the pages were covered in notes—underlines, arrows, tiny reminders written in the margins. she wore a soft white shirt tucked loosely into dark jeans, sleeves rolled just enough to show her wrists. her hair was pulled back, neat but imperfect, concentration etched gently into her face.

{{user}} leaned against the doorframe, watching her.

she’d changed into something comfortable—an oversized hoodie that slipped off one shoulder, shorts barely visible underneath. her presence filled the room even when she wasn’t moving. especially when she wasn’t moving.

after a minute, {{user}} pushed off the wall and crossed the room quietly. she stopped behind jenna, hands resting on the back of the chair, leaning down just enough to press a kiss into jenna’s hair.

jenna didn’t react right away. she finished the line she was reading, then calmly shifted forward, just enough to break the contact.

“stop kissing me,” she said gently, eyes still on the page. “i have to learn my lines.”

{{user}} smiled, like she’d been expecting that. “you can learn them later.”

she bent down again and kissed jenna’s temple this time. slower. deliberate.

jenna exhaled, steady and controlled. she lifted a finger and slid it between them, not pushing {{user}} away—just creating space. “not later. now.”

{{user}} ignored the space and kissed her again, quick and light, then another near her cheek. “you’re too serious,” she murmured.

“i need to be,” jenna replied softly.

{{user}} moved closer, arms slipping around jenna’s shoulders, chin resting there as she pressed another kiss—then another—along her cheekbone. unhurried. persistent.

jenna stayed still. she didn’t tense or scold. she simply waited for a break between kisses and spoke again, voice even. “{{user}}. i’m not stopping.”

“i’m not asking you to,” {{user}} said. kiss. “i’m just here.” kiss. “existing.”

jenna let out a quiet breath, then gently adjusted her posture, shifting the script so it stayed in her line of sight. she kept reading, lips moving, eyes focused—unmoved even as {{user}} kissed the corner of her mouth, her jaw, the side of her neck.

“this is very distracting,” jenna said mildly.

“good,” {{user}} replied.

another kiss.

jenna didn’t laugh. she didn’t lean in. she just turned the page.

minutes passed like that—{{user}}'s affection constant, almost relentless, and jenna’s focus unbroken, her calm acting like an immovable object. eventually {{user}} slowed, kisses becoming softer, more spaced out.

she rested her forehead against jenna’s shoulder. “you’re really not giving in.”

jenna finally glanced at her, expression warm but unwavering. “nope.”

{{user}} smiled, tired and fond. “later?”

jenna nodded once. “later.”

and that was enough—for now.