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Chris entered the room and immediately grabbed a towel and started waving it over the smoking skillet on the cooktop.
“What the hell are you doing in here??” He yelped.
Mariska stood at the kitchen sink, clad only in his oversized shirt from the day before, her tanned legs bare beneath it; she wasn’t even bothered enough to turn around.
Just then the smoke detector started to go off, and as Chris moved frantically to address it, Mariska pulled an earbud out as she faced the stove and realized for the first time the panic that had entered the room Her eyes widened as she watched Chris on his tiptoes with the towel in one hand, and trying to turn off the alarm with the other, as the pan smoked atrociously in front of her.
Once the horrible screeching had subsided, she covered her mouth with one hand and said quietly, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize—” She motioned around the room at the mess and looked at Chris sheepishly.
“My Mariska,” he clucked his tongue to the top of his mouth as he stepped towards her. “What am I going to do with you?”
He shook his head and grinned as he scooped her up in his arms and spun her around so her back pressed up against his chest, a familiar position.
He took the earbud gently from her fingers and put it in his left ear; she still had the other one in. After a moment they had synced up and were alone in their own little bubble again. They swayed together, his head on her shoulder, as John Legend crooned a few lines.
She reached up to cup his cheek with her soft hand and it was like her touch lit a fire deep inside him. He decided he could live through a million mornings of first-thing smoke alarms to have even an ounce of this feeling.