"I won't run off."
"Liar," Sacha said, fond. She linked her arm through Mia's and tugged her toward the doorway. "Come on. Let the man breathe for five minutes. He looks like he enjoyed that a bit too much to be useful yet. Poor me, getting all forgotten by you while Stan gets all the love..."
Mia didn't refute this time, instead she only glanced at Sacha's face as fondness rose with the embarrassment within her heart...
'I missed these teasing of yours… it's been so long.'
The present thinned.
Sun. A backyard that had never needed to be large. Warm afternoon light on patchy grass and the fence that always leaned the same way. Cushions, cardboard boxes, old blankets dragged from the house and arranged into a lopsided "home" that little Mia treated as architecture.
She was Stan's wife for the day, and she was serious about it.
