Out Of My Hands

Qing Chen was massaging his temples while he was on the way home. It was rare that he got headaches but it seemed like it was one of those days. Once he got home, he was already looking forward to the cold shower that he was going to take to numb the pain away. He still had to look over a some things before heading to bed.

What he was not looking forward to was his wife. "Hey," her voice called from the kitchen. The scent from the other room was simple. It seemed like she was not cooking something too complicated. It was confirmed when he saw that she was only making egg drop soup.

"How's your day?" Qing Chen asked, tentatively waiting on the entryway.

Feng Xuan had not looked at him. She had her back turned to him as she stirred in a pot over the fire. "It went well. It's kind of a slow day at the office. We are all just coming down from the last fashion show."

She didn't follow up anything. It was a closed conversation.