Show me off

A Romance One-Shot

The scent of rosemary and garlic filled the air, mingling with the sweet, smoky notes of red wine. The kitchen was dimly lit, the only glow coming from the string lights over the counter and the low flicker of a candle she had absentmindedly lit. It felt like their own little world—untouched, safe, theirs.

She stood barefoot, wrapped in his oversized white button-down, the sleeves rolled up clumsily on her arms. Her brown braids tumbled over her shoulders, swaying slightly as she moved.

He, on the other hand, stood in nothing but loose sweatpants, his bare chest warm and golden under the soft light. A sheen of warmth clung to his skin from standing over the stove, his toned arms flexing as he lazily stirred the pasta sauce.

She watched him with quiet admiration, sipping her wine, letting the moment soak into her. “You’re beautiful, you know that?” she mused.

He smirked, glancing over his shoulder. “Oh? Now you’re objectifying me?”

She set her glass down and moved toward him, slipping her arms around his waist from behind, pressing her cheek to his back. His skin was warm—home.

“Maybe,” she whispered.

From the speaker in the corner, their song began to play. Show me off, show me to the world… I wanna live my life with you…

He chuckled, setting the spoon down. “You planned this, didn’t you?”

She grinned against his skin. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

He turned in her arms, his dark eyes locking onto hers with that look—the one that made her insides melt. He reached for her wine glass, took a slow sip, then held it to her lips, watching her as she drank.

And then, with a playful glint in his eye, he set the glass down and pulled her into his arms, swaying them gently to the music.

“I just want to spend it all with you,” he sang softly, his voice low, rich, melting into her skin.

She smiled, threading her fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck. “And grow old with you…” she echoed.

His hands skimmed down her back, warm palms pressing against the fabric of his shirt that she wore. He tugged her closer, so close she could feel his heartbeat against her chest.

“You are the one, you own my heart,” he murmured, brushing his lips against her forehead, then her cheek, trailing lower until he hovered just over her lips.

She sighed against him, her fingers tightening in his hair. “You are the one who makes me happy every day.”

“Damn right, I do,” he teased, stealing a kiss—slow, deep, lingering.

She laughed against his lips, but the sound faded as he kissed her again, slower this time, like he was savoring her. Like he was memorizing her.

The sauce on the stove bubbled over, but neither of them moved.

The only thing that existed was this—his hands gripping her waist, her fingers tracing the curve of his jaw, their breath mixing, their love spilling over, overflowing, uncontained.

“I just wanna live in love with you,” he murmured, voice thick with emotion.

She closed her eyes, holding onto him like she never wanted to let go.

And then—

A loud, jarring beep.

Her eyes snapped open.

The kitchen was gone. The music was gone. He was gone.

The alarm clock blared, its red numbers glaring at her like a cruel joke. Sunlight streamed through the curtains, too bright, too real.

Her chest rose and fell in uneven breaths. She turned her head, her fingers reaching for the space beside her—cold. Empty.

She let out a shaky breath, pressing her palm flat against the sheets where his warmth should’ve been.

“Show me off,” she whispered into the silence, her voice cracking.

But there was no one there to hear it.

Just the morning light, and the echoes of a love that only existed in dreams.

Show me off
Show me to the world

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