It was a cold, fresh evening as you and Chappell strolled hand in hand through the softly lit streets of downtown. People were scattered about, laughing, chatting, and basking in the weekend vibes. Chappell's usual smile was noticeably absent, and she seemed oddly reserved, glancing up at you every so often before looking away quickly.
You noticed her hesitation and nudged her lightly. "Hey, why are you frowning?"
She stopped walking, pouting as she looked at you, arms crossed. "I'm wearing heels, and I'm still shorter than you," she whined, rolling her eyes. "These were the tallest ones I could find, too!"
You couldn't help the laugh that escaped as you took in her expression. It was half annoyance, half adorable frustration, and it made your heart melt. "That's why you've been pouting all day?" you asked, tilting your head as you tried to catch her eye.
Chappell huffed, glancing away dramatically. "If you were my height, you'd do the same!" She crossed her arms even tighter, looking down at her heels as if they were the ones that betrayed her.
You laughed softly, watching her. "Aww, Chappell, is it really that bad?" You gently took her hand and pulled her closer, leaning down just slightly to be on her level. "Personally, I think you're the perfect height."
She scrunched her nose at you, clearly not convinced. "Easy for you to say when you're towering over me, Miss 5'10," she mumbled, throwing her hands up in dramatic exasperation. "I hate being short. It's... it's shitty!" she groaned, throwing her head back. "So...fucking...shitty."
Her exasperation made you laugh again, but you softened as you saw her real frustration beneath her humour. You placed your hands on her shoulders, gently guiding her to look at you. "Hey, look at me," you said, waiting for her gaze to meet yours. "You being shorter doesn't change anything for me. In fact, I love that I get to look after you, protect you a little... and bend down to kiss you."
Chappell's cheeks turned the slightest bit pink as she looked up at you. "You're only saying that to make me feel better," she mumbled, a tiny smile creeping onto her lips.
You leaned closer, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "No, I mean it," you murmured, voice soft. "Every time you tiptoe up just to kiss me, it's one of my favourite things. It's like you're putting in a little extra effort, just for me." You felt your own cheeks warm as you admitted it, your fingers absentmindedly tracing circles on her shoulders.
Chappell bit her lip, looking down as her pout started to fade. "I guess... I never thought about it like that." She peeked up at you, her voice softening. "You really don't mind?"
"Not at all. In fact, I think it's adorable." You grinned, stepping back just slightly, and then without warning, you leaned down and picked her up by her waist, spinning her around.
She squealed, arms instinctively wrapping around your neck, laughing as she clung to you. "Put me down, you giant!"
"Nope!" you teased, spinning her a little more as she laughed, her frustration forgotten. "I'll just carry you everywhere if you're going to complain about being short!"
Chappell burst into laughter, her eyes shining as she clutched you tightly. When you finally put her down, her cheeks were flushed, her pout completely replaced with a grin. She looked up at you, still holding onto your shoulders, her expression warm.
"Thank you," she murmured. "You always know how to make me feel better, even when I'm being ridiculous."
You leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "That's my job. Besides, I think you're perfect just the way you are."
She smiled, standing on her tiptoes to kiss you softly. "Fine. But just so you know," she whispered against your lips, "I'm still not giving up on finding taller heels."
As you and Chappell continued walking, you noticed she was still glancing at her heels every so often, her lips pressing into that small, adorable pout. You decided it was time to change the scenery—and her mood—completely.
"Hey, how about I take you out to dinner?" you suggested, flashing a smile as you tugged her hand to get her attention.
She looked up, a glimmer of interest flickering in her eyes. "Dinner?" she echoed, trying to hide her excitement.
"Yep! Somewhere fancy. With dim lighting, romantic ambiance... maybe even candles." You shot her a wink. "I mean, you did go all out with those heels; they deserve to be shown off somewhere special."
Chappell's pout softened into a slight smile as she looked down at her shoes, giving a tiny, pleased nod. "Well... okay, but don't you dare pick a place where everyone's a foot taller than me," she muttered, though you could see her eyes brightening.
With her hand in yours, you led her down a few winding streets until you arrived at a quaint little bistro with warm lights spilling out onto the sidewalk. A server led you both to a cozy, secluded table by the window. Chappell slid into her seat, and you could tell she was finally relaxing.
The soft lighting cast a gentle glow over the table, and you watched as she examined the menu with a little more excitement, her earlier frustrations momentarily forgotten.
"See? Isn't this cozy?" you asked, leaning in a bit. "Plus, everyone here is sitting, so technically, height doesn't even matter now."
She snickered, kicking you lightly under the table. "You're ridiculous," she teased, though her smile was back in full force. "But... I guess I kind of appreciate it." She leaned on her hand, looking at you with a softened expression. "I'll admit, you're pretty good at distracting me."
"I aim to please," you said with a grin, reaching across the table to brush your thumb over her knuckles.
When the food arrived, you kept her distracted with stories and jokes, pulling out all the stops to keep her smiling. For each joke that made her roll her eyes, there was another that made her laugh—a sweet sound that you couldn't get enough of. And every now and then, when she leaned across the table to steal a bite from your plate, you noticed how she bit her lip as she peeked up at you, trying to stifle her laughter.
Halfway through dinner, you realised she hadn't once looked at her heels or mentioned her height again. Feeling a surge of satisfaction, you raised your glass, flashing her a cheeky grin. "To us," you declared, "and to the perfect height difference."
Chappell snorted, raising her glass to meet yours. "To me finding taller heels someday," she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she clinked her glass against yours.
After dinner, you both stepped outside, the night air cool and refreshing. Chappell glanced up at the streetlights, the soft glow illuminating her face, and for a moment, she didn't seem to be worrying about anything. She was just there, with you, savouring the moment.
As you walked down the street hand in hand, she sighed contentedly, looking up at you. "I can't believe you made me forget about my height."
You raised an eyebrow, pretending to look offended. "Forget? Chappell, I think it's just that you finally accepted it. You look great, you're confident, and you don't need to worry about being taller to make an impact."
She bit her lip, holding back a smile. "Maybe you're right." Then, with a glint of playfulness, she stopped, pulling you to a halt. "But if I can't change my height, there's one thing I can still do to level the playing field."
Before you could respond, she grabbed the front of your coat, tugging you down just enough so she could press a quick, mischievous kiss to your lips. You felt her smile against you as she pulled back, cheeks flushed and eyes twinkling.
"That's one way to handle it," you murmured, grinning as she straightened up, looking rather pleased with herself.
With that final boost to her confidence, she laced her fingers through yours and nudged you to keep walking. For the rest of the evening, it wasn't about height or heels or anything else—just laughter, shared glances, and the sweet comfort of being side by side.
