Most people thought you were one of the nicest people they’d ever met.

You smiled at strangers. Thanked waiters. Apologised when someone stepped on your foot.

Even Sevika had assumed that’s just how you were.

Sweet.

Gentle.

The type of person who’d never intentionally say a rude thing to anyone.

Then, a few months into your relationship, she realised she’d been completely wrong.

Not because you weren’t kind.

You were.

You just apparently became a menace the second you got comfortable with someone.

The first time it happened, Sevika nearly choked laughing.

She’d spent ten minutes trying to fix a jammed cabinet door before finally yanking it open hard enough to send herself stumbling backwards.

You watched the entire thing from the couch.

“…Good fight?”

Sevika froze.

Slowly turned her head.

You were trying and failing to hide a smile behind your mug.

For a second she just stared.

Then she barked out a laugh.

A real one.

The kind that made her shoulders shake.

“Oh, you’ve got a cheeky streak, huh?”

You immediately looked horrified.

“No, no, sorry.”

“No.” Sevika pointed at you. “Do that again.”

“What?”

“Be a smartass.”

You stared, a blush creeping up your cheeks.

“I wasn’t being a smartass.”

“You absolutely were, babe.”

You tried to deny it.

The grin on your face gave you away.

After that, it only got worse.

Or better, as far as Sevika was concerned.

The more comfortable you became around her, the more the comments appeared.

She’d walk into a room and forget why she’d entered.

“I knew there was an age gap issue somewhere.”

She would spend fifteen minutes searching for something only to realise she’d been holding it the entire time.

“Good thing you’re pretty.”

She’d flop down on the bed, exhausted.

You’d nod sympathetically.

“Maybe I should’ve checked the mileage before marrying you.”

Every time she had a moment, you’d get this look on your face.

“You got something to say?” she’d grumble.

“No.”

“You absolutely do.”

And every single time, she’d end up laughing.

It became one of her favourite things.

Because nobody else got this version of you.

Around strangers, you were all soft smiles and politeness.

Around Sevika?

You’d sit beside her on the couch and casually tell her she had the survival instincts of an overconfident pigeon.

Then hand her a cup of tea and press a kiss to her cheek five seconds later.

The contrast was ridiculous.

And Sevika adored it.

One evening, the two of you were cooking dinner together.

Or attempting to.

Sevika was chopping vegetables while you hovered nearby.

At some point she reached for a pan that had just come off the stove.

Without thinking.

You smacked her hand away.

She hissed.

“What the hell?”

“It was hot.”

“I know that.”

“You were literally about to grab it.”

“I would’ve been fine.”

You looked at her.

Then at the glowing red pan.

Then back at her.

“Right.”

Sevika narrowed her eyes.

“Say it.”

“I’m not saying anything.”

“You’re thinking something.”

“I’m thinking lots of things.”

“Yeah?”

You smiled sweetly.

“Well, I just think we’ve identified the weak link in this marriage.”

Sevika tried to muster a scowl, but the retort she was about to fire back dissolved into laughter before it ever made it out.

Actual laughter.

One hand braced against the counter while you stood there trying not to laugh too.

Sevika smacked your hip lightly with the wooden spoon.

“The mouth on you,” she fake-scolded. “Careful. I can still throw you over my shoulder.”

“Is that a threat or an offer?”

Sevika snorted, rolling her eyes as a grin spread across her face.

“You are unbelievable.”

“You love me.”

“I do.”

The answer came so quickly that it caught both of you off guard.

Your smile softened.

Sevika’s expression did too.

Then you tilted your head.

“Aww.” You slid your arms around her waist and drew her in, tipping your head back to look up at her from where your chin rested against her chest. The exaggerated pout and flutter of your lashes were entirely intentional.

The moment was ruined immediately.

Sevika groaned.

“There she is.”

“What?”

“Thought I lost the smartass for a second.”

You laughed.

And Sevika found herself smiling again.

Because that was the thing.

You only got like this with people you trusted.

People you loved.

Every sarcastic comment, every cheeky grin, every ridiculous little jab meant the same thing.

You were comfortable.

You felt safe.

Loved.