So Heartless

"The abuse of greatness is when it disjoins remorse from power.”
~ William Shakespeare


"Hon, when are we leaving?"

After their little wrestling match on the table, they were, yet again, freshening up before heading out to one of the parks for a picnic. Sophia pulled her a shirt out of her drawer, her lips pursing as she examined it. With a nod of approval, she slid it over her arms and put it on, straightening it out in the full body mirror attached to the back of the closet door.

"Hon, you there?" she asked again, this time a little louder. She wasn't sure if he was out of the shower yet.

"You rang," came his sarcastic tone from the doorway to their bedroom.

She spun on the heel of her foot, tilting her head when she saw that he had taken a shower after all. "Honestly," she grumbled while rolling her eyes, "you are such a clean freak." She turned around, looking at herself in the mirror once more. Her hands began smoothing out the wrinkles that were visible in the shirt. She stopped when she saw, and felt, his arms wrap around her torso.

"And you, my dear, are a neat freak," he commented with a wiggle of those dark brows of his. He sighed heavily as he rested his chin on her shoulder, making her head turn to kiss him on the cheek.

"I'm not." She kissed him on the cheek again. "I just like to look good." She pried his arms off from around her and turned around so she was facing him. She wrinkled her nose once she realized he had hugged her from behind when he was still wet. "Now go get dressed. I want to at least make it before sunset."

Her excitement died down when she saw the look he gave her, almost as if something bad was going to happen.

"Change of plans," he said with another sigh. "Frank just called, his car broke down," he threw his wet towel on the bed, "and apparently, he needs me to pick him up." And as he was telling her this, he casually slipped on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.

Sophia tried not to show her disappointment, but it was clearly obvious to him. When he looked at her, the guilt finally started setting him, twisting his stomach like he had done something terrible wrong.

"Babe, I'm sorry," he attempted to apologize, though none of this was really his fault. His fingers brushed her hair over her shoulder gently, his eyes watching for a reaction. "We'll do it another time, I promise."

She tried to seem optimistic, she really did, but it felt force, like always. She lifted her eyebrows and made a smile to make it appear like everything was hunky dory, like it was no big deal that he was going and ditching their plans. "Pinky promise?" She gave him a look, holding out her pinky.

Noah quirked an eyebrow, a smirk appearing on the corners of his lips. It was rather childish, but he wasn't about to say anything. He hooked his pinky with hers, swinging their hands slightly. "Cross my heart and hope to die, dahling."

Satisfaction worked on his face when she giggled lightly, stood on her tippy-toes and went to kiss him.

"I love you."

He went for another kiss when she pulled away, not exactly done yet. "Good, 'cause I do too."