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“Oh come on, Momo. Live a little!” Tome says with an elbow in his side. Somehow she manages to turn the music upon his laptop at the same time, an upbeat tempo filling the kitchen. It’s their first week living here and Momozou’s just barely broken the oven in, stirring the ingredients for a soup on the stove top.
“Tome, I’m cooking. Or at least, I’m trying to. You want to eat tonight, right?”
She pouts at him, tugging at his elbow and striking a dramatic pose. “That stovetop takes for ever to heat up, come on! We both know this is one of your favorite songs.”
He rolls his eyes, letting her drag him to the center of the kitchen where afternoon sunlight pours in through the window, drafts of dust glimmering like gold as Tome’s movements swirl them around. He laughs as she attempts to do a terrible solo dance. He can’t help the swell of affection in his chest, or the stupid grin on his face.
“You look ridiculous.”
“You look more ridiculous, just standing there! C’mon, join me.” She extends her hand with a familiar flair.
“I don’t dance, nerd,” he says, taking her hand and joining her.
Neither of them are really dancers, but they laugh and smile as they twirl with the music, bumping into each other and stepping on feet, fingers interlacing and arms embracing. They spin each other under their arms and Tome tries some fancy footwork but ends up nearly falling flat on her ass. Her mind is obnoxiously addicting to hear in his head, the feelings she’s feeling as she exhilarates herself and lets the music decide her split second movements. Her laughter gives way to his own chuckles and by the time the music fades out they’re both holding hands in the center of the room, foreheads touching, air bubbling with their laughs.
A slower song starts to play and Momozou catches his breath, finding himself smiling at Tome, who smiles back. They sway in time with the music, Tome noting mentally at him how much they must look like a sappy old couple. He snorts, kissing her on the forehead, closing his eyes and humming happily. There’s something special between them, a connection, something content and happy-- he wonders just how much of his thoughts are getting through to Tome. He hopes she knows just how much this means to him.
“Babe, you’re such a sap, oh my god.” You’re my sap, though, and I love you. The projected thought is loud and clear and he can’t help the blush that spreads across his face. She laughs and he fake grumbles, but they both fall silent again, just enjoying each other’s company.
And then the fire alarm goes off, water spraying from the old fashioned sprinklers in the ceiling.
They both yelp, scrambling to save their electronics and the smoking pot of what used to be soup. Momozou manages to pour it down the sink, and Tome has the laptop covered with her jacket, but by the time all the windows are opened and the sprinkler system goes off, they’re both drenched and shivering in the dining room.
They both take one look at the other and immediately burst out laughing, tearing up at the ridiculousness of the situation.
“Oh god… there’s so much water!” She exclaims through a snort.
“Sure hope the towels we bought haven’t been sprayed.”
They spend the rest of the afternoon drying their things out, and Tome orders takeout.
Music continues to play and Momozou finds himself hoping that this moment would never end.