Pancakes, Teasing & Unspoken Things
Morning came quietly.
Soft light filled the house, slow and gentle—like nothing in the world was rushing you.
I walked into the kitchen, still half-asleep, and there she was—making pancakes like she had her life together.
“You’re awake,” she smiled.
I nodded, sitting nearby. For a moment, I thought I’d stay quiet.
But something in me didn’t.
“It hurt,” I said.
She didn’t ask what. She just turned off the stove, walked to the couch, and sat down.
I followed.
And then it came out. Not perfectly. Not in order. Just… real.
She listened. Fully. No interruptions. No fixing.
When I stopped, she opened her arms—and I leaned into them without thinking.
“I’ve got you,” she whispered.
Warm. Safe. The kind of comfort that doesn’t ask questions.
Then—
“Did I interrupt something?”
We both looked up.
She was standing at the door, calm, observing. Of course.
“I’m just comforting our little baby,” she said softly.
“I hate you,” I groaned.
“She’s not little anymore,” came the reply. “She’s a grown woman.”
A pause.
Then—
“She has to see this.”
“…what?”
Before I could react, she pulled out her phone.
“Wait—stop—don’t you dare!” I laughed, sitting up quickly.
Too late.
“For documentation,” she said calmly. “Lila would appreciate this.”
“XENA—NO—”
“Stay where you are.”
“I will not stay where I am!”
I tried to grab the phone—she just lifted it higher.
“You’re making it worse.”
“You’re unbelievable!”
Click.
Silence.
“…you didn’t.”
“I did.”
I covered my face. “I’m leaving this house.”
“I’ll send it later.”
“YOU WILL NOT—”
“We’ll see.”
She slipped the phone away like nothing happened.
And somehow… that made it worse.
But also funnier.
We ended up sitting together again, pancakes half-eaten, the moment settling into something softer.
Then she spoke again.
“When you were in my wife’s arms… did you feel something?”
I laughed immediately. “Stop.”
“Did you?” she continued, completely unbothered. “Don’t be scared. I won’t eat you. I mean… she is charming.”
Something in me pushed back.
“So what… are you jealous, Warrior Princess?”
“Stop embarrassing her!” she laughed beside me.
But she stepped closer.
“If I were really jealous,” she said quietly, “you wouldn’t be sitting here.”
That landed.
“So,” she added, “go on.”
I looked down for a second.
“I was upset,” I said. “And… your Gabrielle has a way of soothing a heartache.”
A small smile.
“She’s adorable. In all her ways.”
Silence.
Then she pulled her closer, looking at her like nothing else existed.
“I’m in love with the most beautiful woman.”
She smiled—but of course, couldn’t stay serious.
“So… were you a bit jealous, Miss Warrior?”
No answer.
I shook my head, laughing softly.
“You’re an old couple… and you still don’t miss a chance to show your love.”
“Old?!” she gasped.
“Accurate,” came the calm reply.
Laughter filled the room.
And just like that—
what started heavy…
turned into something warm.
Because somehow, in that house,
you don’t stay hidden for long.
But you also don’t stay alone.
some hearts were slightly glowing during the production of this unmotion picture