dinner and a movie || dani & hopper
Dani moved through the kitchen, sleeves pushed up, hair tied back, wooden spoon tapping lightly against the edge of the pot. The sauce simmered low, filling the house with something warm and steady. The kind of smell that made a place feel lived in.
She checked the clock. Hopper was late. Not unusual. Not surprising. Still enough to make her glance toward the door every few minutes like she hadnât spent half her life doing exactly that.
She stirred the pot again, tasting, adjusting, trying not to overthink the fact that sheâd made enough for two without even meaning to. Habit. Muscle memory. Or maybe something she didnât want to name.
@jhopper-ste
Hopper checked his reflection in the rearview mirror, cursed, and tried to flatten a stray lock of hair that refused to cooperate. Finally, he killed the engine, grabbed the brown paper bag from the passenger seat, and climbed out. He walked up the porch steps, his boots feeling twice as loud as usual. He reached for the handle, remembered he should probably be polite, and gave a sharp, slightly too loud knock before pushing the door open. "Hey. It's just me," he called out, his voice cracking just enough for him to mentally kick himself. He stepped into the kitchen, and the smell of the sauce hit him. He saw Dani by the stove, and for a second, he just stood there, feeling like he had too many limbs and not enough places to put them. "Sorry Iâm... uh, late," he muttered, clearing his throat and shifting his weight. "Station was a mess. Paperwork. You know. Itâs like they wait until five minutes before I leave to lose every pen in the building."
He took a step toward the counter, moving with a stiff, careful pace as if he were afraid he might knock over a lamp just by being in the room. Holding out the paper bag, his fingers gripped the top a little too tight. "I brought... uh. This," he said, setting it down. Then he pulled out the bottle, a red with a label that featured a lot of gold foil and words he couldn't pronounce. "The guy at the store said it was 'sophisticated.' He looked like he knew what he was talking about, so I figured... well. I didn't want to bring the cheap stuff." He stood there awkwardly, his hands hovering near his belt, then shoved them into his pockets. His eyes moved from her, to the pot, then back at her, his usual authoritative persona currently nowhere to be found. "You look... you look really beautiful, Dani," he said, the compliment coming out a bit gruff, but the sincerity behind it was plain as day. "Is that, uh... oregano? It smells incredible in here."


















