Summary:

“Three weeks in a row, Ilya.” Shane comments, his own eyebrows raised, “The pans are put back, but always in the wrong place.”

“Okay, I’m sorry,” Ilya says, fast. Shane turns back around.

“This isn’t just about the pans,” Shane mutters, low and under his breath, but Ilya catches it.

“Then what is this about?” Ilya asks, his voice competitive and harsh as he drops his phone to give Shane his attention, “Because you’ve been sighing, huffing, and turning your nose up for the past week, Shane. Is like you are tired of me.”

Shane’s shoulders stiffen slightly.

OR

What starts out as a small, insignificant argument leads to a revelation of emotions that have been building for months, and one comment goes too far.