Anna
“If you argue with me on romance versus practicality, I will always win,” he said, a hint of stubbornness settling into his tone as his jaw tightened slightly.
There was something almost boyish about the way he said it—so sure of himself, so unwilling to bend, that I couldn’t help it. A laugh slipped out of me, light and unrestrained, my head falling back for a moment as the sound filled the quiet kitchen.
He frowned at my reaction, clearly unimpressed.
“You’re laughing,” he pointed out.
“Because you argue like a child,” I shot back, still smiling.
His eyes narrowed slightly, but there was no real irritation behind it. If anything, the tension from earlier had softened.
We fell into silence after that, but it wasn’t awkward.
It was the kind of silence that settled naturally, w
