Something About You

1

LENA'S POV

"Hey, honey, I'm home." I said as I walked into our apartment to see Stef curled up on the couch.

She seemed relaxed in her sweatpants and sweatshirt, typing something on her laptop. She finally looked at me and smiled.

"Hi, love, how was your day?"

I set my keys on the table and moved to sit next to her on the couch. "Pretty uneventful. What about you? What you working on?"

Stef turned her eyes away from the computer to look at me and kiss me briefly. "I postponed a bunch of crap from work and now I have to write all this stuff for tomorrow morning."

I chuckled. "You always do that, Stef." I set my hands on her hair, caressing it lightly, and watched her type something slowly.

"Well, it's a bad habit that I have every intention of breaking. But yesterday... It was your fault, you know." She said, playfully.

"Excuse me? How could it ever have been my fault?" I raised an eyebrow.

She huffed. "You wanted to christen every single room in our apartment."

"Well, how is it my fault that we moved here yesterday? It just had to be done, sweetheart." I grinned and kissed her softly on the lips.

"You, Lena Adams, are full of surprises," she said, pulling me in for another kiss.

We'd been together for 5 months now and decided not to wait; we had to move in. Once we found the right apartment – near the University where I teach and Stef's paper – we just had to do it. And I am so glad that we did.

"Okay," I said, pulling away from her. "None of that. You have to write."

She frowned. "But I-"

I got up from the couch. "No. I don't want to be responsible for your getting fired."

She gasped. "Getting fired? Are you doubting my skills as a journalist?" She asked, once again, playfully.

"I'm doubting your skills as a person who can get things done before 3 AM."

"Well. I can't argue with you on that," she gave in and went back to her typing.

I put my hair up, walked into the kitchen and opened our fridge. We'd just moved in, so I wasn't expecting much, but I found nothing. Not even lettuce to make a decent salad. All we had was bread and a few other things. Nothing dinner-like. There was no way I could cook anything with the ingredients we had.

I grabbed the take-out menu from a pizza place nearby and gave them a call.

I decided to then go to our bedroom and read a book for the lesson I'd planned for tomorrow. After about 40 minutes, the pizza arrived. Stef was so involved in her work that, poor thing, she hadn't even noticed that there was pizza until I handed her a slice.

"Where did that come from? When did it get here? How did I not notice?" She bombarded me with funny questions.

I chuckled. "Just now. Didn't you hear anything?" Or smell anything, for that matter.

She shook her head, confused.

"Come eat with me. You need to take a break from this craziness." I grabbed her other hand and led her to the kitchen, where there were paper plates and more pizza.

Stef ate a bit, looking at me with loving eyes. I tried to ignore that at first, but it lasted a long time. I almost blushed.

"Stef. Why are you looking at me like that?"

She smiled her beautiful smile. "Because I'm in love with you."

I was suddenly shy. "Love you too."

"And," she said, grabbing my free hand and intertwining our fingers. "You take such good care of me."

I nearly laughed at that. "Honey, I think getting us cheap pizza hardly counts as taking good care of you."

"I could say some beautiful words that I know you would love to hear, but I'm saving my inspiration for the article I'm working on. But I just... love how good you are to me," I smiled. I loved it when she said beautiful, intelligent, sexy words to me. Most people don't appreciate that enough, but I... I always have. As an English professor, and as her partner.

"Feeling's mutual. You know that." I finally said, looking at her eyes. She smiled big and grabbed my hand, giving it a firm kiss. I got up from the table, put the rest of the pizza in the fridge and moved to the trash can to throw our paper plates in there.

In the middle of the process, though, I felt Stef's arms behind my back and her kiss on my exposed neck, since my hair was still up.

"I never got to hear about your day." She mumbled with her lips still on my neck.

I smiled at her sweetness and the softness of her voice. "It was fine. I had a student hit on me today though."

She laughed because I had told her many stories like that. It was always a male student who hit on me and we'd get some pretty good laughs at the situation.

"God, Lena. You need to wear a lesbian shirt to work these days or something." She laughed and I turned around to face her, not letting go of her arms.

"Actually, it was a girl this time," I affirmed.

She stopped laughing. "Wow. Did you recite some poetry to her?" Stef teased. I was glad, because she wasn't one to get jealous easily. I made sure she knew how I felt about her.

"Of course not, Stef. That's our thing." I carried on the joke.

She laughed, always so playful. Stef put her arms around my neck and whispered quietly and sexily in my ear. "You know... I can't really blame her for having a crush on you."

I had chills all over my body. I opened my mouth, meant to say something in return. But when I came back to it, she was already winking at me from the kitchen door. Stef freaking Foster.

We spent the night just as we had started it: Stef was writing her article and I was rereading a book for my lesson on the next day. I'd always wanted to be prepared for any kind of question that might come up, especially since my students didn't hesitate to ask. When Stef came to bed, I was asleep and my book was on the floor. She quietly picked it up, set it on my bedside table and gave me a tender kiss on the forehead.

AN: This was just a small first chapter so I can get your feedback soon. Let me know if you want more chapters to this. Thanks so much for reading! Please comment :)