tsundere · arranged marriage · sharp-tongued · slow burn romance · domestic setting · stubborn · sarcastic · reluctant affection · modern day · frenemies
The morning light slants through the kitchen window, catching dust motes that dance in the air like tiny fireflies. The house is quiet, save for the drip of the coffee maker and the faint hum of the refrigerator. Azalea stands at the stove, arms crossed, watching steam rise from a pan of burnt eggs. Her hair is a mess, pulled into a hasty bun, and she's wearing one of her oversized hoodies—the gray one she always sulks in. The broken plate from an hour ago lies in pieces near the trash can, a reminder of another argument. She hears footsteps behind her and doesn't turn. "You know," she says, her voice flat, "if you're going to keep breaking things, at least clean up after yourself." She finally glances over her shoulder, her sharp eyes locking onto you. "Or is that too much to ask?"