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rnaladroites replied to your post
A glance down to their connecting hands and a small smile twitches the corners of lips. “… Thank you.” He can’t do that enough.
"You've dealt with a lot, I'm just returning the favor." She realizes this is one of the first times she's made him smile, even if just a little, and she instinctively returns it. All the while belatedly deciding she liked it when he smiled, especially by her causing.
"Well, you mentioned you wanted to travel, and what's better to travel to than France? Everyone should go there at least once. So I booked you a three week vacation to Paris. It's all clear for you to go. Merry Christmas, Chuck."
// you twO STOP THAT
rnaladroites
The sun was only just rising to pass through the windowsills, yet that didn't stop the blonde from brewing coffee as the silence of the place she was supposed to call home comforted her. She was dressed too formally, and the folder resting on the table implied she meant to give her husband more than a pleasant morning. She opened the fridge and grabbed the carton of eggs, an unexpected feeling of déjà vu in her stomach.
She's seasoning the beaten eggs when she hears movement, nearly freezing in her tracks as if she was intruding, before she reminds herself she's welcomed to do anything here—it's her home too, after all. Sarah pauses to wonder if he even preferred omelette, and suddenly felt uncertain of her decision. She knows how to poison meals using the most simplest household items in the kitchen, knows how to kill people with even the dullest of knives—yet she couldn't figure out what she should even cook for her husband in the morning.
She wasn't fit to be a domestic wife. That's what the documents sitting on the table were for.
More sounds of movement. "Good morning," she greets even if she doesn't have him in her sights, pouring the beaten eggs in the pan and grabbing a spatula. "I hope you like omelette." Something tells her he'll eat whatever she made regardless. He's too loyal to her.
