Jax
I'm halfway through dragging a sock onto my foot when I catch myself smiling again.
It's becoming a problem. A genuine, medically diagnosable problem. It should probably come with pamphlets and support groups. Corrian would absolutely say so. Corrian would say a lot of things, most of them involving words like boundaries and self-control and please stop staring at Frankie.
The shower hisses steadily from the bathroom, steam drifting through the open doorway, and I glance toward it with another grin because, honestly, my life is pretty f*****g great right now.
Getting dressed should not be this difficult. It's a sock. A completely normal item of clothing that I have successfully worn thousands of times before, yet I've managed to get my heel caught in the wrong bit and now I'm bal
