Dec 24, 2025
| putting the final touches on a gift beside @nuttyassquirrelshit
Joan shifted, ever so unsubtly, to rest her head against her husband's shoulder. Those tender, early-winter nights were cold. Colder, maybe, now that she didn't generate much body heat; he still felt just right against her, like it would be no trouble at all for him to house her cold feet between his ankles like he did last winter.
"I love you," she murmured into the crook of his neck like her lips might still brush lingering evidence of their change. "I wish I could give y'everythin' y'ever wanted." Her nose brushed the spot where her lips had just lingered, as if moving too far away from him would break the bubble of intimacy her lowered voice provided.