SUMMARY — Alfie and his wife. Slice of life and domestic fluff.
AUTHOR’S NOTE — Written for the 100 Followers Celebration for @zablife - congratulations on your milestone darling! This is a Reader fic since it somehow fit the idea better, but I suppose my intention was that the Reader is Edna… if that makes any sense? I hope you like it!
“And what does my beautiful bride want for her tea this fine bloody evenin’?” Alfie asked you when he entered the sunroom where you were resting; Cyril’s head on your lap and a book in hand.
It was in fact a perfectly nice evening, if a little chilly. You knew, however, how his sciatica acted up whenever the temperature dropped, so you decided not to comment. You just smiled at your husband’s word choice, though couldn’t exactly tear yourself away from your reading.
“Should you still be calling me your bride if it’s been a year already?” you asked casually.
Alfie scoffed at that and barked something you couldn’t understand, though somehow knew it was a swear word. You lifted the book higher to hide your utter delight at the reaction. Teasing him never got old.
