first... [a devereux]

synopsis: first time using pet names.

You see, the thing with [A] is they don't think before they speak. They have absolutely no filter. Once a thought enters their mind, it's out of their mouth the next instant. It's gotten them into trouble more times than they can count, but an upside of their unfortunate… habit, let's say, is they're rarely ever phased by other people anymore.

Or so, they thought.

Because the moment they hear the word, that word, they drop the strawberry that was halfway to their mouth and simply gape at you.

"[A]? Did you hear me?" you ask. "Do you know where…"

You trail off when you enter the living room, frowning at [A]'s dysfunctional state. Their throat feels dry. They feel the sudden urge to tackle you and pepper you with kisses while simultaneously shake you by the shoulders to make sure what they heard was right. They're not sure they can do both at once.

"What's wrong?"

"Um," [A] says intelligently.

You take a couple of steps closer, examining the scene before you. [A]'s bowl of strawberries is halfway done. Your TV is playing music softly in the background and your coffee table has traces of [A]'s iced latte left, counting the coaster and dots of water from condensation.

"Are you—"

"Can you say it again?" [A] says hoarsely.

Your eyebrows furrow. "What's wrong?"

"No, not that. The—" [A] licks their lips, trying to find the words "—thing you said before. When you called me from the other room."

This time, you don't respond right away. [A]'s acting weird enough for you to actually consider what they're asking, so [A] watches you run the last minute or so back in your head, waiting for it to hit you like it did them. And when a slightly embarrassed and flustered look crosses your face, they know it has.

"You mean me calling you babe?"

[A] makes an indignant squeak, toppling the bowl this time. "Again?"

You smirk, all traces of hesitation leaving your body. "Babe."

[A] can feel the heat rushing to their face, stopping right at their neck. One more time and it'll definitely reach their cheeks, but for now, they're determined not to make too much of a fool of themself. Not anymore, that is.

"I think that's the first time you've used that," [A] breathes.

"Probably, but if I knew it would cause this reaction, I would've used it a lot sooner," you tease.

"Don't make fun of me," [A] mumbles.

"And who would I be if I didn't take advantage of this?"

[A] feels their lips turn into a pout. They cross their arms for good measure and turn their body toward the window. Both of you know they're not actually mad, but you also know that they're one of the most dramatic people to exist.

"Babe," you drawl. A shudder runs through [A]'s body and you laugh, letting them know you didn't miss their highly embarrassing reaction. "Relax, I won't use it against you. But it's going to be a problem if you get affected every time I say the word."

[A] huffs. "I'll get used to it."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"And if I called you baby?"

This time the heat really does rush all the way up to [A]'s cheeks. They feel their eyes widen before they grab a nearby pillow and bury their face in it, ignoring your laughter as they let out a groan.

You're going to be the fucking death of them.