♫ intolewd - matt maltese
❝ i was doing fine, then i met you ❞
♫ casual - chappell roan
❝ i know what you tell your friends
it's casual ❞
--
their hands find each other amidst the fur, fingers brushing ever so slightly.
there is nothing in this moment but the two of them.
visions of the scenes that could follow this moment paint their imaginations in vibrant hues. the deep green of yearning and the muted blue of honesty swirl around each other yet never mix; the sweet vermilion of familiarity laces the cool tones with warmth. this is how it feels.
gracie's body, though unmoving, feels alive. the colors find their way down her abdomen. her heart beats quicker with each passing second that she spends looking into spencer's eyes, and he's not looking away. he can't forgo the tranquility.
as if by a gravitational pull, there is nothing that stops them from drawing nearer to each other.
except for the smoke alarm, of course.
"WHAT THE FUCK!" spencer exclaims, jumping up from where he was sitting. he runs to the kitchen, voice echoing down the hallway: "i didn't actually think sauce could burn!"
cleo runs and hides under the bed.
the nagging rings prompt gracie to cover her ears before following him into the kitchen, where a small plume of smoke rises from the pot over the stove. a bitter odor fills the once aromatic apartment.
spencer vigorously waves a dish towel in front of the smoke alarm to clear the air, and it works. he peeks over the edge of the pot, investigating the wreckage.
the silence is now deafening, and nothing interrupts their thoughts of the position they were just in a second ago. gracie doesn't think any words would come out if she tried to form them, so she wishes he'd say something instead.
"honestly, looks like we got some salvaged sauce here. just a little crisp around the edges is all." he looks to her for her approval, optimism evident in his expression.
she nods and smiles at him. "it'll have a... really unique flavor profile."
he laughs at this and finally turns off the stovetop.
--
they eat their spaghetti on the couch in front of the television. the only sound present is the soft, rhythmic drumming of rain against the window. the blinds are open, and the city lights are obscured by the droplets. the kitchen light illuminates their backs and casts shadows on the wall.
gracie wonders what they might look like to someone outside, sitting here in the low light together, eating dinner, sheltered from the rain. it's casual and yet it feels romantic somehow.
"i'm sorry, it smells like shit in here. can i light a candle?" spencer gestures to the pumpkin candle on the coffee table in front of them, the one she noticed when she walked in an hour ago.
she nods. "of course, i love candles."
"me too."
he pulls a box of matches out from one of the table's drawers, strikes it, and lights the candle in one fell swoop.
YOU ARE READING
𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 | spencer agnew
Fanfictionshe thinks she deserves what she's given; he gives what he thinks she deserves.
