His peeling of oranges in the morning. Her homemade walnut bread. His selection of spices. Her knowledge of cheese. His appreciation of tofu. Her humming as she cooks. His perfect selection of music to eat to. Her white sauce. His carvery skills. Her irrational fear of prawns. The way he leaves little piles of bread crusts on the side of the plate at breakfast. Her inability to clean plates properly. The way he opens his mouth and lowers his tongue to the approaching fork. Her insistence on pepper in everything. His aversion to courgettes. The pout she makes as she chews. The way he takes a sip of wine while his mouth is full. The scrape of her knife on the plate.
The sink is full. There is mold beneath the countertop. There is smell from the bin. There are cockroaches behind the fridge.