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If Patricia had to pick a favorite time and place, it would be Saturday mornings curled up on the living room couch with some type of cartoon playing and Petra pressed against her in one of the many ways she usually positioned herself.
It was the time she could zone out and forget that she had to be an adult. A coffee mug on the table in front of her and the remote on the armrest, well at least until it would dive into the couch cushions to hide.
This one particular morning was near perfect.
A light drizzle distorted the light coming in through the windows. Patricia’s favorite blanket that she’d managed to convince her mother to part with when she and Petra got married was wrapped around her like armor. Her coffee sat steaming on the coffee table as she leaned back into the armrest with her feet resting in Petra’s lap. Her lovely wife was absorbed in her phone, but it was fine since Patricia was currently zoning out on an old re-run of Darkwing Duck.
The vocalist almost dozed back off into sleep, but was jolted slightly by a sudden sneeze from Petra.
“Don’t die.”
She croaked the response before clearing her throat lightly and twitching a smile as she noticed the oddness of it.
Petra didn’t miss a beat though, as she answered with a quiet, “I’ll die all I want to, don’t tell me what to do.”
The two fell back into silence for a few seconds before Petra snorted while her shoulders shook in silent laughter.
Patricia just smiled and shook her head as she turned back to the TV.
They lapsed back into comfortable silence, both focused on the TV and the characters’ shenanigans.
A few minutes later, the far off sound of a siren pushed its way through the living room, distracting Patricia once again.
“Hear that? They’re coming for you.”
Petra looked away from the TV and listened to the siren for a moment.
“That’s an ambulance, Trish.”
“Exactly.”
Without any warning, Patricia swung her leg forward, and then swiftly brought it back; slamming the back of her calf across Petra’s toned stomach.
It wasn’t too hard, but it still knocked the wind out of the taller girl for a second, causing her to gasp.
In retaliation, she shoved Patricia’s legs off her lap, unbalancing the younger woman and inevitably sending her flailing to the floor, blankets tangled all around her.
“Ow!...Alright, that’s fair.”
Petra smirked and rubbed her stomach slightly.
“Damn right. That hurt you little shit.”
“Did not. You’re being a drama queen.”
“Am not. I’ll show you drama queen.”
With absolutely no grace, Petra laid down and rolled herself off the couch, straight on top of her fallen spouse.
“Oh! What tragedy! My love has been slain by my own doing! Alas poor Lunchbox, I knew her well.”
Patricia huffed under the weight of her wife and pushed uselessly at her limp form.
“You’re so annoying. I want a divorce.”
Petra grinned as she wiggled herself in between Patricia and the couch, wrapping her arms around the dirty blonde and peppering her faux-angry face with light kisses.
“Nah, you’d miss me too much. You’re stuck with me Trish.”
Patricia rolled her eyes, but dropped the angry look. The found one that replaced it was accented by a sweet kiss from Petra.
“How unfortunate for me.”
Petra sighed happily and tucked Patricia’s head under her chin, closed her eyes, and settled down comfortably. It wasn’t very long before she had slipped back into sleep.
Patricia echoed the happy sigh and snuggled into her chest, pulling her blanket up around them both.
Yep, this was definitely her favorite place in the world.