projectroxas | (no subject)

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[ he's not really surprised to come home to an empty house, even on a saturday. he doesn't even need to call riku to know where he is; instead, he rolls his eyes to the ceiling in a long-suffering manner as he moves over the kitchen table to set the costco-bought cookies for riku's monday class. then he goes about his usual rituals: checking the fridge, making a note on the portable white-board on what they need to go shopping for, pouring himself a bowl of cereal & peeking in the bathroom to check on the ducks.

he spends a good ten minutes petting them (quack, quack) before he remembers the cereal -- now soggy. but he eats it anyway, slipping on his reading glasses to flip through the latest science journal that sora had received a free subscription while tucked into the corner of the couch, waiting for riku to get home. ]

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[ huffs out in amusement, lifting an arm to put it around rob's shoulders to pull him a bit closer. ]

Remind me to kick him out earlier next time.

[ rests his head against riku's shoulder. ]

You'd just tell me that that's impossible.

[ pushes his nose into rob's hair. ]

Just mention Lunchables again next time.

The same trick would work?

It's Tony.

Point. Guess he wouldn't remember the first time.

And you won't either once he calls you "Mrs. Riku" again.

Mister.

How about Miss Riku?

That'd be you before marriage, not me.

[ lifts his free hand to pinch at rob's cheek. ]

Very cute.

[ tries to tilt his head away. ]

It's logic.

[ keeps at it. ]

But I'm not the wife.

Neither of us are.

[ nudges his nose gently against the side of rob's face, finally letting him go to instead pull him into a full hug. ]

But I thought you liked being the wife.

[ automatically relaxes against him before loosely returning the embrace. ]

Says who?

Says me.

You've been wrong before.

[ holds him tighter, lifting his head again to rub his face into blond locks. ]

No I haven't.

Selective memory.

Best memory.

That's impossible. Those are mutually exclusive.

[ promptly ignores, switching topics quickly: ]

So are you ready for that soup yet?

[ cranes his head upward a bit, expression betraying his excitement despite the flat tone of voice. ]

The slightly not ruined soup?

[ conceals his amusement for the time being, merely repeating: ]

The slightly not ruined soup.