There were the little things.
There were the little things about him that drove her crazy—as if she wasn't crazy enough to begin with—the small, irritating nuisances he created that made her want to scream.
Leaving a mess in the kitchen after he'd eaten was one of those things.
"How many times, Jacob—"
"Right back at you, Renesmee." He snapped angrily.
She ground her teeth. She hated the use of her full name when it came from anyone but her mother's lips. "I've told you far too often that you must clean the kitchen when you make a mess. It's not that difficult! Honestly, just wash the dish you've used, put it in the cupboard, and turn out the lights!"
"Or we can do the normal thing and put it in the dishwasher and do it all later!"
"Oh very smart; have it develop into some nasty fungus or disease, or… or…" she was furious. She was so enraged, that she was at a loss of words for that… that… "Just clean, damn it!"
"I don't have to do anything, Nessie."
"Don't give me that."
"You always screw up the closet, and you don't see me complaining, right?"
"I don't screw up the closet." Her faced turned pink, she could practically feel him silently gloating at this new victory.
"Of course you don't, Ness." He said sarcastically. He sat at the table, where a couple of empty plates sat from last night's dinner with the Grandpa Charlie, Grandma Sue, and Billy.
"I don't."
"Alright. You want to look? We could always prove it, you know."
"Maybe I mess it up a little… but you don't even use the closet! You leave your things on the bed, and they just pile up and make even more of a mess—"
"How did this turn back to me?" he said incredulously, "Well, tell you what: you don't use the kitchen."
"I do!"
"When?"
"When we have people over." Her voice hinted all too clearly that that meant yesterday night.
"Not that often!"
"I sit with you when you eat, and I have to watch you leave the plates out here to rot—"
"Then don't sit with me!"
Her lips pursed. "You're going to regret that, Black." And she marched off with a death glare in his direction.
He winced. Yes, he would regret it. He wanted to run after her and apologize already, but he wouldn't let her win that easily, no matter what his instincts told him.
X
Right now, they were telling him to grovel. Three nights now she'd kicked him out of their bedroom, and three days she hadn't spoken a single word to him. He'd known vampire women were temperamental—but she was half a vampire, so didn't that mean she should be half as evil?
But of course not. What could he expect? She'd grown up with the Cullen females nurturing and loving her. What else could she do but throw plates when she was angry?
"Nessie?" He asked tentatively.
No answer.
"Nessie, please?"
Still no answer.
"Nessie, I need clothing."
"I don't care."
"You're being childish."
"You're annoying me."
"Be reasonable."
"I'm being reasonable."
"No, you're—"
"Go away, Jacob."
"Nessie, please? I smell terrible. I need the shower and clean clothing."
There was a sigh. She opened the door and let him in with a glare.
"Thank you." He grabbed clean clothing, and went to the shower. When he came out, she was sitting on the bed, tapping her foot with a vengeance. He sat next to her and tried to take her hand, but she pulled it back instantly and crossed her arms, staring straight out in front of her. He nearly laughed—her bronze hair was combed back in its pre-bedtime braid, her eyes refusing to move. Her eyebrows were very slightly furrowed, and her pink lips set in a hard, thin line. She stole a glance at him, then, realizing he'd seen that, she looked back ahead, her cheeks now a light pink.
"So." He said casually.
"So."
"Missed you at dinner tonight."
"I thought you didn't want me to have dinner with you."
"When did I say that?"
"Three days ago."
"Is that what we were arguing about?"
"I believe it is."
"I'd forgotten."
Before he realized it, her fist was in his stomach and he was bent over wincing. "Old, married women don't do that to their husbands." He managed, rubbing the bruise. It was already healing though.
"I'm not old and I don't have to be married if I don't want to. As I recall, there's a certain Amazonian half-breed—"
"Don't even go there, Ness." Jacob muttered darkly.
"Why ever not? I'll go every time we have dinner, since you seem so determined not to have me there."
"You're being ridiculous!" he burst out irritably. "Fine! I'll clean the kitchen when I'm done eating. Happy?"
"Why should I care, when I don't use the kitchen?"
"You do. I take it back. And I hate eating alone, and I hate sleeping alone, and I hate it when you're angry and you won't listen to anyone like this—" at that, she turned a little pinker "—and I love you, Nessie, so will you please please forgive me?"
She sighed and uncrossed her arms. He immediately took the opportunity to take her hand in his and squeeze it tightly. "You'll clean up when you make a mess?"
"Absolutely."
"You won't complain about the closet?"
"Never."
"And you'll let me use the kitchen as I like?"
"Did I ever stop you from using it?"
"I suppose not… I'm sorry too, Jake. For being annoying and overreacting."
"It's fine. But… I am sleeping here tonight, right?"
She kissed him, then pulled away and sniffed. "Yes. But you still smell terrible."
"Let it be, Nessie."
"Can't argue with that." She grinned, and they went to bed.