Fics like corduroy

She now wears a band on her left hand that he can run the pads of his fingers over when he drives. Knife cut edge, thin. A pleasant scrape on his skin that eases the noise of anxiety. She had used the top of his preferred pen for reference for measurements to email the jeweler. He had noticed the ring within minutes of her putting it on for the first time. Run his index finger over it as they ate breakfast, and smiled. “Sweetheart,” he had said, slow and stretched. Like he had to take the time to adore her. “You like it,” she had said. She was a very good gift giver. It's one of the things she's known for. She knew. And he knew as well, that this was a gift for him, even though it lived on her finger, because he’d hate it if it existed on his. “Love it,” he had corrected her. Run it back another time. “I love it.” - For their second Fourth of July together, they take a road trip to California to meet Emma's family.

Fics like corduroy

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