ode to my two thighs (still want you to kiss 'em)

The argument starts before they even leave the party. Not loudly, not even enough for anyone but them to notice. 

It’s the kind of fight that’s been simmering for weeks - exhausted resentment sharpened into quiet cruelty. Two people who know all too well how to hurt each other. Every word, every sentence carefully crafted to hurt without sounding like they’re trying to.

They’ve just left a close friend's birthday party where they spent the entire evening pretending everything was okay. Both of them spend the night entertaining other people, just enough to be noticed. Just enough to get a reaction.

But maybe the real issue has nothing to do with tonight at all. 

By the time they say their goodbyes and step out into the night, neither of them is speaking, the drive home unbearable.

Aeri stares out the passenger window while he keeps both hands locked around the steering wheel. Neither can bear to look at the other, the tension sitting between them like a third passenger.

When they finally pull into their building's underground garage, relief should follow.

It doesn't. Instead, the silence somehow gets worse.

The elevator ride to their floor passes without a single word exchanged.

The apartment door clicks shut behind them.

Their shoes land beside each other in the entryway. His keys hit the console table. Her handbag follows a second later.

Ordinary sounds.

The sounds of home.

The sounds of a life they've built together.

And somehow that only makes everything worse.

Photographs line the hallway walls, a half-finished bottle of wine still sits on the kitchen counter from last weekend. Her cardigan hangs over the back of the sofa. His laptop remains abandoned on the dining table. Evidence of them everywhere.

Evidence neither of them seems to know what to do with anymore.

He’s standing in the kitchen, jaw tight, tie loosened, refusing to look at her.

The calmness just makes Aeri even angrier. 

“You know,” she says finally, arms folded tightly across her chest, “your ability to emotionally shut down the second things don’t go your way is actually second to none.”

“Right. Because this conversation has been incredibly productive so far,” he spits out, the sarcasm sharp enough to cut through the apartment. 

“Don’t speak to me in that tone.” 

“What tone would that be, hm?”

“That condescending one you use when you’ve already decided I’m too emotional and you’re above actually talking to me.”

That gets his attention, eyes snapping up to meet hers, and for the first time all night, he actually looks at her. 

"Above talking to you?" he repeats incredulously. "That's what you think?" 

A short, disbelieving laugh escapes him, a sound that only makes Aeri angrier.

Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the city glitters against the night sky. Headlights snake through the streets below. Neon signs glow between skyscrapers. Thousands of apartment windows burn gold in the darkness.

Normal.

Alive.

For a moment, neither of them notices the lights several blocks away flickering.

Then flicker again.

Aeri is too busy glaring at him to pay attention.

"You know what your problem is?" she says.

His jaw tightens. "My problem?"

The lights in the apartment blink once, twice.

Both of them pause.

"What was-"

Everything goes black, the apartment is swallowed whole by darkness. The refrigerator dies mid-hum, the air conditioning cuts out. Even the digital clock on the microwave vanishes. For one strange second, the silence is absolute.

One second their home feels lived in.

The next it feels abandoned.

Then, somewhere in the distance, sirens begin to wail.

Aeri turns toward the windows.

Across the city, entire sections of the skyline are disappearing into darkness, one building at a time. Streetlights blinking out, traffic signals dying. Almost like someone had pressed the off button on the city.

"What the hell?" she breathes. 

Neither of them notices the argument has stopped, too engrossed in the outside world.

Far below, car horns begin sounding through intersections stripped of traffic lights. Emergency vehicles weave through the darkness, red and blue flashes cutting across entire blocks.

A notification lights up Aeri's phone screen.

EMERGENCY ALERT.

WIDESPREAD POWER FAILURE REPORTED ACROSS THE CITY.