“Here you go.”
He placed the mug down in front of her. Settled into his chair with a heaviness that made the cushions wheeze. Opened his newspaper with a rustle and a wet clearing of his throat.
“You’ve used the wrong mug.”
Nothing.
“Ed. You’ve used the wrong mug.”
He glanced over his glasses, eyebrows wearily preparing for an argument.
“The tea will taste the same though eh?”
She shook her head, grey curls quivering with resentment. “No. It tastes better in the red one.”
“That’s all in your head.”
The curls stopped moving. The eyebrows relaxed.
“Sorry.”
“Me too.”
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