Livre: One Shots

[38] Barefoot in the kitchen

OTHER UPDATE: For the multi-chapter fanfic. (Which launches this weekend! Do you want updates on Saturday's or Sunday's? Comment Saturday or Sundays at the end of the fic if you have a preference. If you don't want to choose, you don't have to comment. :) Happy weekend y'all!

-/-

"Let me do the dishes, Taylor."

"The last time you did them one of the plates broke and they came out almost less clean then when they started."

"Oh come on, you know that's totally untr-"

"No."

"But I live here too and-"

"Nope." Taylor enunciates the word by a small popping sound.

It astounds Karlie how much she and Taylor never agree on service. They never get into fights or disagreements over real issues but the mundane day to day? That's another story.

It could be who turn it is to plan date night. It could be who's bringing who lunch. Who's paying the bill. Who's turn it is to water the many plants spread out in their apartment. Or sometimes it's in even more tiny matters, like who is doing the dishes. Taylor demands something in that no-nonsense voice that never worked on Karlie ever. Karlie disagrees and then it's raised voices and maybe an appliance broken at two in the morning because "Karlie it's my turn to wipe down the Kitchen-Aid!"

And a lot of the time, this is the most ironic part in her opinion, it's about doing something nice for the other person. Like the dishes today, for instance. How Taylor's back has been bothering her (Karlie swears her touring is catching up to her.) and Karlie was going to offer that Taylor lie down on the comfy living room couch while Karlie does the dishes and doesn't drop them thank you very much that's only happened twice, and then athey'd cuddle on that couch in a big spoon-little spoon fashion underneath that stupid blanket with the fairy lights on.

But no.

(And Karlie is not going to think about the very similar argument they had when Taylor brought over her lunch two days ago. Nope.)

Karlie stands in the doorway for a moment, just sort of watching Taylor and silently fuming and also letting her eyes wander all over her form. She isn't going to give this one up, especially when she's perfectly capable of doing dishes. She's 28 years old for god's sake. She could at least do the drying, jesus. Apparently Karlie isn't being very quiet in her standing still and watching or Taylor has crazy instincts, which is more plausible, because Taylor turns her head with a soft smile:

"Go choose a movie and a wine babe."

Karlie rolls her eyes and glances back behind the door frame to glance at their living room,

Karlie rolls her eyes again, stepping just a bit closer, close enough to wrap her arms around Taylor's waist. She leaned in, dropping her head on Taylor's shoulder, allowing her hands to clasp in front of her stomach. She could reach forward and pick up a dish to wash from this perspective, but her current position is extremely comfortable, and she doesn't feel like getting swatted.

A huff escapes the singer's mouth. Taylor is still fairly rigid in her arms, although as Karlie drops a kiss onto the back of her neck, she relents ever so slightly.

"How are we doing in here?"

Taylor breathes deeply and turns back to give Karlie something like a grateful smile, then breaks Karlie's hold on her gently in order to grab a new towel from the sink.

As Karlie is still in front of the sink she tries to reach around Taylor again, but Taylor bats her away immediately with the towel to resume her washing and Karlie leans on the counter beside it and stares at Taylor in what she hopes is a very persuading way.