I was cooking dinner, the rhythmic sound of chopping vegetables filling the room, as Seraphine wandered around me like a restless cat. She kept brushing against me, her fingers occasionally grazing my arm or her hand resting lightly on my back. It wasn't subtle—she wasn't trying to be.
But I ignored her. My expression remained stoic as I focused on my tasks, stirring the pot or reaching for ingredients, pretending her presence was no more significant than the air around me.
Ignoring my ignorance, Seraphine continued with her mischief. She hummed to herself, poking at the items on the counter, and then moved to inspect the rest of the house.
"You're really enjoying yourself here, aren't you?" I remarked flatly, lifting her chair—while she was still sitting on it—to clean the spot beneath it.
She grinned, swinging her legs in midair. "Yeah, I like being with you."