Ruh Roh (One on One)

She raised an eyebrow, brushing her hair out of her face.

"Cute is a human term."

 

"Irilye," she agreed, kissing the tip of his nose. "But it's not an adjective. It's a noun. It's a little like sweetheart, if that makes sense."

 

She shrugged slowly, her eyes thoughtful.

“We don’t really have anything for that.”

 

“I suppose,” she said slowly, her gaze flickering to meet his. “Irilye.”

 

"Right," she said with a nod, picking up the piece of paper and sitting back on the counter. "Let's do it."

 

"Says here two large ones," she said, squinted. "Room temperature."

 

"Sugar," she said, stretching. "60 cups."

 

"No," she protested, holding it closer. "It says 60 cups."

 

"Am I speaking in Pixie? Sixty, Sam. Sixty cups."

 

"No. You gave it to me."