Word Count: 438
Romilda shivers as she enters the house, the chill of the December air still lingering in her skin. She shakes her head, forcing the last clinging flakes of snow from her dark hair. "Another day," she says with a sigh, "another migraine."
Cormac pokes his head out of the kitchen, offering her a pearly white grin. "That's a shame," he says. "You know why?"
She resists the urge to roll her eyes as she removes her lavender cloak and hangs it in the hall closet. As much as she loves her boyfriend, he can be a little too cheerful for her liking. "It's been a long day," she says patiently. "Please don't say anything stupid."
"You got chosen!"
It is, in fact, something stupid. Romilda doesn't point that out, though. She notices the cup in his hand, and it is so easy to forgive him for being ridiculous. She licks her lip, eyes on the steam rising from the mug.
As Cormax approaches, the scent of chocolate and cinnamon becomes more distinct. Romilda holds out her hand, happily accepting the hot cocoa. "Why are you so good to me?" she asks, taking a sip. It burns the roof of her mouth, but that doesn't stop her from taking a second sip.
"I dunno," he says, pursing his lips in thought. "Maybe I just have abnormally low standards."
Romilda playfully smacks him. "Oi!"
"Keep it up, and I won't make you any spinach puffs."
Romilda huffs, stepping past him and sitting on the couch. She smirks at him as she sets the cocoa on the table. "I never liked your spinach puffs."
The dramatic gasp that escapes his lips is priceless. Romilda snorts, dark eyes rolling. It's a lie, and Cormac knows it.
"Liar, liar, pants on fire," he says childishly, emphasizing his disbelief by poking out his tongue.
Romilda laughs and pats the spot beside her, beckoning him closer. "Stop running your mouth and come love me," she says. "I told you I had a long day."
"You insulted my spinach puffs."
She resists the urge to roll her eyes. Really, he is too ridiculous sometimes. Still, she wouldn't change him for the world. "I love your spinach puffs almost as much as I love you."
And that's all it takes. He jumps onto the couch, wrapping his arms around her. Just like that, the world fades away. Why should it matter if she's stressed? For now, she has a ridiculous man and the best hot cocoa, two things anyone would be lucky to come home to on such an unforgiving winter day. What else could she need?