Ha, She Thinks She Can Write.

You and Shea collapse onto the bed in unison, barely avoiding a collision. It's been a long time since the store has had a day quite this busy, and it would be perfectly fine to not have another one ever again—not without more help, anyhow.

"Do you think anyone will notice if we sleep through the day tomorrow?" Shea asks, sprawled motionless across their side of the bed.

"I think we may have to find out. I don't intend to move for anything less than a cataclysm."

Shea shifts closer to you and pulls you gently into their arms. You rest your head on their chest and feel their heartbeat under your fingertips. Their breaths are slow and even, and you feel yourself matching their pace, letting go of the last of the day's tension.

Then, your stomach rumbles.

"It is past dinnertime, isn't it?" Shea asks

"Should we flip a coin to decide who makes dinner?"

In response, Shea reaches into their pocket to retrieve a coin. "Crown or coast?"

Your brain takes a moment to conjure an answer. "Crown."

Shea pulls their hand from their pocket and flips the coin into the air with surprising finesse for someone lying down with their partner halfway on top of them. They catch it and hold it out to you. "Look at that—crown it is. I'll make dinner." They gently shift you off of their chest and kiss your forehead as they pocket the coin.

The bedroom door opens and shuts before you realize something. You spring—or to be more accurate, wobble abruptly—out of bed and follow Shea to the kitchen. You confront them as they stand in the pantry.

"Why didn't you take the coin out of your pocket before I said 'crown?'"

"Are you accusing me of dishonest dealings?" Shea puts their hand over their heart, pretending to be deeply offended.

"Yes!"

"Well, you're right." They reach over to pull a coin from behind your ear and spin it between their fingers to show you both sides: both crowns. They surely have its double-coast counterpart in their pocket, too—handy for illusionist's tricks. "I was hoping you'd get some rest before you figured it out. But I should have known better than to try and get one over on you. I'm sorry." They lean in and kiss your cheek.

"You're just apologizing because you got caught."

"I would have apologized after you woke up. But sometimes, the ends justify the means."

You narrow your eyes at them, and they sigh.

"All right, all right. You've shamed me enough." They hold up their hands in surrender. "As your prize, you can help me make dinner." They wink at you. "But we're not exactly flush with options, so I'm afraid it's going to be bread and grilled vegetables. Again."

There are plenty of things you don't miss from your life in your parents' home—but you do miss the pleasant variety of meal options. You barely manage to hold back a sigh, but Shea picks up on your disappointment nonetheless.

They take your hands in theirs and look at you with surprising seriousness. "You gave up so much to be with me. If I had been in your place, I don't know if I would have given up a life of comfort to work every day and eat bread and grilled vegetables."

You pretend to consider the matter. "When you put it that way, it doesn't sound like a very good deal, does it? I suppose it's a good thing I had more to motivate me than just grilled vegetables."

They smile and step closer. "And what might your other source of motivation have been?"

You act as though you're considering the question deeply. "The bread, of course."

Shea laughs. "It is good bread, isn't it?"

You nod. "And I suppose getting a partner out of the deal isn't bad either—even if they sometimes forget that they can rely on me, too. You don't have to do everything alone anymore."

They pull you into their arms once again. "I will do my best to remember. Thank you, [name]."