emily

You had been part of Team Flash for a long time. Long enough to know that trust didn’t come easily. Long enough to have seen betrayal up close, especially from someone who had once been a part of your team, someone who wore the name Harrison Wells but was secretly Eobard Thawne in disguise. You had lived through the pain of that betrayal, and it had made you wary of anyone who could even remotely remind you of the man you thought you knew.

So, when the Earth-2 version of Harrison Wells showed up, you were understandably cautious. There was no telling what kind of man this version of Wells was. He was different, but in some ways, he was also too familiar. At first, you couldn’t quite make him out. Was he trustworthy? Was he just another manipulator? Or was he someone who could help?

But as the days passed, you started to see something that you didn’t expect.

A grumpy, sarcastic, brooding charm that seemed to surround him like a dark cloud. And for reasons you couldn’t fully explain, you found yourself drawn to him. Not in the way that made you feel nervous or uncertain—no, this was different. It was an odd mixture of curiosity and something else. Maybe it was the way he always had a sharp retort ready, or how he would argue with you like a seasoned partner, but never in a mean way. He could be tough, unyielding, but never cruel.

It was strange, but there was something about his arguments with you that felt… oddly familiar. Like the way an old married couple bickers over the smallest, most insignificant things. You could feel the teasing in your voice when you’d push back against one of his opinions, but there was no malice in it.

You didn’t mind it. In fact, you came to look forward to it. The way he would cross his arms and huff, the way his lips would quirk when he was about to argue again.

There was a warmth behind his gruff demeanor. A softness that was just hidden beneath the surface, waiting for someone to notice.

And you did.

It wasn’t something you could explain to anyone—not that you tried. At first, you tried to keep your feelings for him to yourself, chalking it up to simple admiration or maybe even a little bit of fascination with how different he was from the previous Harrison Wells. But the more you worked with him, the more you realized that your feelings weren’t so simple. The easy back-and-forth, the teasing, and the way your interactions always felt so natural—it made you feel… comfortable. And that comfort was slowly starting to change into something else.

It was like a game. You’d tease him, and he’d play right along. Sometimes, you could see the flicker of a smile on his face before he would quickly hide it. Sometimes he’d get frustrated, but you could tell it wasn’t serious—just part of the game. And it was that balance of tension and playfulness that you found so strangely appealing.

You would find yourself going out of your way just to provoke him a little, enjoying the way he would respond, his sharp wit never failing to make you laugh. He was a challenge, a puzzle you couldn’t quite figure out, but you liked that. You liked the way he made you think, how every conversation with him felt like a little mental sparring match.

And yet, no matter how much you bickered, there was a strange sense of comfort between the two of you. It wasn’t the kind of comfort you felt around the others—Caitlin, Barry, and Cisco. It was different. It was the kind of comfort that came from familiarity, from knowing someone well enough to know how to push their buttons, yet still feel safe enough to be yourself around them.

You knew Harry was sharp. He was intelligent, intense, and sometimes a little intimidating, but there was something endearing about him when he wasn’t being so… well, Harry. It made you realize that he wasn’t so much a mystery to solve, but someone who was, in his own way, just as human as everyone else on the team.

You stood in front of the transparent board, marker in hand, staring at the calculations you had been scribbling for the past hour. The numbers and formulas were tangled together in a messy web, but you were certain you were close to something. You just needed to tweak a few more things to find the right way to close the breach and trap Zoom once and for all.

“Alright,” you muttered to yourself as you jotted down another number, but you felt the familiar presence of Harry

hovering nearby. You didn’t need to look to know that he was watching, probably waiting for you to mess something up, as usual.

A moment later, you heard his voice, the same calm, but firm tone that had become a signature of his.

“You’re not considering the frequency resonance of the breach correctly,” he said, his words measured, like he was explaining something very obvious. “You’re too focused on the vibrations’ variations, and it’s skewing your entire calculation.”

You rolled your eyes, even though he couldn’t see it. “I did consider that, Harry. It’s right here,” you pointed to a section of the board where you’d accounted for it. “What you’re not seeing is the variance in the temporal energy fluctuations. It’s what keeps causing the breach to destabilize.”

Harry sighed in that way that always made you feel like you were missing something incredibly simple. “No, you’re missing the bigger picture,” he said, a slight edge to his voice. “The breach is fluctuating, yes, but it’s more about how the frequencies interact with the quantum field. If you don’t adjust for that, everything you’re doing is a waste of time.”

You could feel the heat rising in your chest, the quiet thrill of arguing with him. “I know exactly what I’m doing, Harry,” you said, a teasing smile tugging at your lips, even though he couldn’t see it. “Maybe you should just let me finish, since I’m the one holding the marker.”

There was a small pause, a flicker of something in his gaze as he watched you, before he finally leaned back in his chair, clearly not about to give up just yet. “Fine. But I’m telling you, you’re overcomplicating things,” he shot back, his voice still as controlled as ever, but there was a hint of challenge in it that you couldn’t ignore.

“Overcomplicating? Really?” You spun to face him, walking a few steps toward him, your heels clicking against the floor as you moved. “You’re the one who insists that the frequencies must line up perfectly before we even consider the temporal fluctuations,” you teased, your eyes narrowing mischievously. “I’m not the one stuck in my own little theory.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed too, though there was a spark in them that felt more… playful than you had expected. “I’m not stuck. You’re just too focused on the easy stuff.”

“Oh, is that what this is?” you quipped, standing directly in front of him now, almost in between his legs as you placed your hands on your hips, still holding the marker. "Maybe I’m just better at this than you.”

You could see the corner of his lips twitch, but he said nothing for a moment, simply looking at you with that serious intensity of his. There was something about the way he looked at you that made your pulse race, a sudden awareness of his presence that you hadn’t felt earlier.

You refused to let yourself get distracted, though. The teasing, the bickering, it was all part of the game, right? You were just having fun, weren’t you? You wanted to get the last word. That’s all.

“I know how to fix this breach. Maybe you should take a seat and let me finish. But no, you’ve got to keep nitpicking everything.”

Harry leaned forward just slightly, his blue eyes locking onto yours with a focused intensity. “I’m not nitpicking,” he said quietly, but you could hear the hint of a challenge in his voice. “I’m just trying to save you from making a huge mistake.”

That was it. You weren’t going to let him have the last word this time.

“If you’re so sure you can do it better, then take the marker and show me,” you said with a playful smirk, feeling the familiar thrill of teasing him. “I’d love to see how you—”

You stopped abruptly, words catching in your throat as Harry stood up.

In that instant, everything around you seemed to freeze. You had been standing so close to him already, your bodies almost touching, but the moment he rose from his chair, it felt like the space between you completely vanished. His towering presence loomed over you—he was a full head taller, his body just inches away from yours.

He was tall—really tall—and the way he stood, towering over you, made your heart race faster than you’d like to admit.

Your breath faltered as you realized just how much you had underestimated how tall he was. You shouldn't be surprised, but you were used to seeing the old Harrison constantly sitting in his wheelchair.

This was different. He was standing. You could feel the warmth radiating from him, and for a moment, you couldn’t think straight.

Your knees felt weak, as if the ground beneath you might just give way. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt this… exposed, so aware of another person’s presence. It was as if the air had thickened between you, and suddenly, all the playful bickering seemed insignificant. The tension that had always simmered beneath your words now felt electric, almost palpable.

You blinked, but the words you'd been preparing to say completely slipped from your mind. His blue eyes were so intense, fixed on you as if he could read every thought you were trying to hide.

For a second, you felt your breath catch in your throat. Was it you, or was it suddenly so much warmer? The air between you felt thick, charged with something you couldn’t quite place, but it was almost suffocating. Your skin felt too tight, and you could feel the heat rise in your cheeks, the way your body reacted without you even trying to control it.

Harry seemed to notice, his voice quieter, more measured. "Something wrong?" His tone had shifted, no longer filled with teasing but carrying an almost gentle quality that made your insides do flip-flops. There was no mockery now—just curiosity, maybe even concern. It sent a wave of nervousness crashing over you, and for a moment, you couldn’t quite tell if you were standing on solid ground anymore.

You swallowed, trying to regain some semblance of control over your racing heart. You opened your mouth to speak but had to swallow again before you could manage any coherent words. "Uh… no," you managed, but even you could hear the slight tremor in your voice. The last thing you wanted was to sound unsure, but the way Harry was looking at you—standing so close, his presence so powerful—it was impossible to focus on anything else. It was embarrassing how easily he could affect you.

Harry’s eyes flickered to your face, studying you with that same intensity, and a bemused smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "You’re staring," he pointed out, his voice more curious than teasing now. There was no mocking tone, no playful challenge—just an observation that made your cheeks burn even more.

You froze, caught in the act. You hadn’t even realized you were staring. Your eyes had simply been drawn to him, to the way his tall frame seemed to take up more space than you had expected. His broad shoulders, the sharpness of his jawline, the way his posture had softened when he stood—it was impossible to ignore, and your gaze just followed the natural line of his form.

You took a shaky breath and tried to take a step back, but your legs felt a little too unsteady for it. You were acutely aware of how close he was, of how you had moved almost into his personal space. Your mind scrambled for something normal to say, anything to break the tension that was quickly building between you.

"I just… I didn’t realize you were so..." You trailed off, suddenly unsure of how to finish the sentence. The words felt stuck in your throat. You couldn’t even remember what you had been about to say. His eyes—those piercing, blue eyes—pulled you in again, and for a moment, you couldn’t tear your gaze away.

"So?" Harry prompted, his voice lower now, with a trace of amusement. He didn’t pull back or make any effort to put distance between you—if anything, he leaned in just slightly, as if to invite you to keep speaking. His lips twitched, holding back a grin, and you felt the magnetism between you grow even stronger.

"Tall," you blurted out before you could stop yourself, and the instant the word left your mouth, your face flushed even more, the embarrassment flooding you. You could practically feel the heat radiating from your cheeks. "I didn’t realize how tall you were."

It sounded so ridiculous.

You winced internally, wishing for the ground to swallow you up. It was such a stupid thing to say, but his reaction was unexpected. Harry’s amused smile softened into something else, almost like he was genuinely entertained by your flustered state.

He didn’t mock you, didn’t say anything else for a few seconds, but the way he looked at you now—his blue eyes just slightly squinting, a playful glimmer in them—left you feeling uncomfortably exposed. You could hear his breath, steady and calm, and it only made you more aware of the close proximity.

"Well, now you do," he said, his voice low, as if savoring the moment.

Before you could react, Harry took the marker from your hand, his fingers brushing against yours. It was a fleeting touch, but it sent a jolt of electricity through you, making you freeze for a moment. The warmth from his touch lingered on your skin, and when you didn’t move, he raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement still dancing in his eyes.

"May I?" he asked, his voice soft but carrying a certain authority that made your heart skip.

You blinked, suddenly realizing he was waiting for you to step aside so he could get to the board. Flushing a deep red, you quickly stepped back, not trusting yourself to say anything. You felt like you were still in a trance, caught in the intensity of his gaze and presence.

As he moved toward the board, you couldn’t help but watch him. He took the marker and began to correct your calculations with a practiced hand. His arm flexed as he wrote, muscles shifting beneath the fabric of his shirt, his movements confident, assured. You couldn’t tear your gaze away from the way his body seemed to fill the space around him, the lines of his back, the curve of his neck as he focused on the board. 

It hit you then, all at once: you’d been blind to this before. The way your pulse quickened whenever he was near, the way his presence seemed to fill every room. You’d tried to ignore it, tried to tell yourself it was just work—but now, standing so close, you realized you were drawn to him in ways you hadn’t even admitted to yourself. The attraction had always been there, simmering under the surface. But now it was impossible to deny.

You took a tentative step closer, unable to stop yourself, your eyes locked on his calculations as you tried to regain some sense of normalcy. You had to focus on the math, not on the way your heart seemed to race whenever he was near.

When Harry finished, he turned toward you with a small, satisfied smile. “There, you see? That's correct,”

he said, pointing to the final result.

You leaned in to look at what he’d done. You reread the numbers, the equation, the way it all fit perfectly together, and you realized with a quiet sense of awe that he had been right from the start. He’d been right about everything. You looked up at him, ready to offer your reluctant apology, but instead, you found him already looking at you. His gaze was so intense it felt like it was pulling you in, like he could see straight through you.

The air around you seemed to thicken, the distance between you shrinking with each passing second. Your lips parted, but no words came out. There was only the beating of your heart, louder now, and the soft sound of his breath, steady and close.

Harry took a step forward, his body moving with an ease that was almost hypnotic. His eyes never left yours, and before you could even fully process what was happening, his hand reached up, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. The gesture was gentle, but it felt intimate, like an invitation.

Then, without warning, his lips were on yours. The kiss was slow, testing, as if he was waiting for you to pull away, but you didn’t. You couldn’t. Instead, you leaned into him, your body moving instinctively toward his. The world around you seemed to vanish, leaving only the feeling of his lips, the warmth of his body pressed against yours, and the thundering of your heart in your ears.

For a moment, you thought you might be dreaming, but the way he kissed you, the way his hands held you gently, told you that this was real—far too real. And when he finally pulled away, just enough to breathe, his forehead rested against yours. His eyes searched yours, and you saw the same confusion, the same surprise reflected there.

"Was that... alright?" he asked quietly, as if he was still unsure of what had just happened.

You didn’t answer right away. Instead, you looked at him, taking in the depth of the moment, and then, with a smile that didn’t quite hide your own surprise, you nodded.

You always felt safe in the car with him, and even though in the beginning he was riding like a maniac, with the progress of your relationship - it slowly died down, and when one morning you asked him about it, he simply replied "How could I risk putting the most important person in my life in any danger?", like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and even though he still enjoyed the speed, he wasn't doing any risky maneuvers when you were with him. 

The whole ride to the hotel was quiet, but it was far from awkward... You were staring out the window, deep in your thoughts, with one hand under your chin and the other on his thigh, where your fingers intertwined with his, and every time he was changing gears, he moved both of your hands to the stick, not wanting to let you go even for a second. 

When the car was parked, he brought your hand to his lips and pressed a small kiss to it, before you left the car, and when you did, you easily slipped under his arm and wrapped yours around his hip. Here you didn't have to be so careful, because the hotel was occupied only by the Mercedes team, so even if anyone saw you two, you seriously doubted that they would leak the information about who their boss was with... And since this secret had an expiration date in the near future, you felt comfortable enough lowering the walls here and there. 

- I think I've come up with a rough plan... - you said when you were in the elevator. - It's mostly bullet points, and there is a lot of technical and legal research in front of me, but I'm already excited. - you looked up, and you could see that he was already excited with you, even though he had a whole race to think of.

- Do you want to run it by me now? - he asked, and you shook your head. 

- Not yet... I will in a few days though. - you wanted to make sure that everything was as perfect as possible before you shared the details, and for that, you needed more time. And you didn't want to burden him with anything more this close to the race. - But first dinner... How hungry are you? - you asked because you wanted to estimate how much time you could spend on preparing food.

- Not that much... And the work shouldn't take me more than 2 hours, most likely less. After that, I'm all yours. - he smiled and leaned in to kiss the top of your head before the elevator door opened. 

It didn't take you long to get to the room, and when Toto almost immediately started working from the kitchen island, you took a quick shower first. 

- I'm stealing one of your shirts with full intentions of staining it! - you shouted from the bedroom, even though he told you times and times again that if you wanted something of his, you could just take it. 

- Go for it! - he shouted back, and you couldn't help but smile when you took one of his blue shirts and put it on. You left three top buttons open, because you were still hot after the shower. You also tucked the front of the shirt behind a band of your shorts and rolled up the sleeves, so you could actually do things with your hands. 

Before you got to cooking, you came up behind Toto who was studying a specific graph on his screen, wrapped your arms around his abdomen, and pressed your cheek to his back. He instinctively covered your hand with his, not looking away from the laptop. Finding a rhythm with him was easy, almost natural. Sure, you had some disagreements, but nothing serious enough to put a wedge between you two... And it helped that both of you craved physical affection because there didn't have to be any reason behind a hug, a kiss, or a simple touch, just like now... You stayed like that for a moment without having to explain why and pressed a quick kiss in the place, where your cheek rested just a second ago. 

- If you need a rubber duck, feel free... - you said, walking around the kitchen island. When you first explained the concept to him, he couldn't stop laughing, but then one evening he actually tried it... And even though you didn't fully understand what he was talking about, explaining the problem out loud, was enough for him to realize what he was doing wrong. And ever since, every now and again he went into a very technical rant, sometimes in German, but mostly in English, so you could ask at least some questions. 

- Thank you, Schatzi. - he looked up for a moment and when he saw what you were wearing, a giant smile bloomed on his face and he couldn't stop staring for a good moment, even when you caught him. - Do you need help with that? - he pointed his chin at the lamb rack, still in one piece that you took out of the fridge. As a daughter of a professional chef, it would be hard for you not to know how to handle yourself in the kitchen, and even though you definitely didn't cook every day, you still enjoyed it. And even though he knew all of that, he still offered to help.

- Finish your work, mo Chuisle... - when he called you Love or Schatzi, you loved looking for nicknames in every language of the world, and when your friends called their partners babe or honey, you were peppering yours with Neshama Sheli (my soul), Ya Amar (my moon), and many more, and he never knew which one was coming. It was like his own personal Russian Roulette of love. 

- Mo Chuisle....? That's a new one. - of course, he nailed the pronunciation the first time, while it took you at least five minutes to get the rough "ch" right. 

- It is... - you smiled at him, while you took everything that you might need for cooking. As soon as he noticed that you enjoyed cooking even in hotels, he always made sure to request a suit with a fully stocked kitchen, even if he wasn't sure, you were to visit him. - It's Gaelic and it means my pulse or my heartbeat. - you explained and before you even got to prepping, you poured a glass of water and dropped a lemon slice in it.

- I like it... Mo Chuisle... - he repeated it again committing it to memory, while you put the glass in his reach, and he almost immediately took it and drank half of it. Even though you technically didn't live together, you learned each other's habits and preferences pretty well.

And now you could officially start cooking. Dividing the rack took you less than a minute, so did making a simple rosemary-garlic marinade, and while the meat was absorbing it, you peeled the potatoes, cut them in quarters, and put them in a pot. While they were slowly boiling, you cut more garlic and rosemary and put them in a pan with olive oil, and as soon as it started heating up, the simple yet amazing smell filled up the room. When the oil was infused, you strained it and divided it in two to use later. 

Once you got into the proper rhythm and your muscle memory took over, your mind went back to your plans for the future. You knew you would have to start and register your own production company, which seemed to be the easy part... You already had some names in mind when it came to a possible tech crew. During your years with the network, it was hard not to make some friends both in and outside of the company, and you were almost sure that at least five people would be willing to go on this adventure with you. And when it came to the research team, you knew you would need at least two... let's say "very passionate" people whose skills towered the FBI, so they could push each other to find more and more interesting things peppered over the internet, and you could easily think about one person who once was able to find a guy just by his phone case, so you had no doubts that she would be able to comb every part of the internet to find the most obscure facts and verify them. 

- Mark confirmed he'll be able to swing by tomorrow morning. 8 AM ok? - the question pulled you from your train of thought, and you needed a moment to take in the reality. Potatoes were already roasting in the oven, the fresh greens salad was already done, and you were in the process of reducing the wine glaze. You continued mixing it, so it wouldn't burn. 

- The lawyer...? - you confirmed, looking at Toto over your shoulder, and he nodded. – 8 AM is fine. Here? - you assumed that's what "swing by" meant, but you wanted to make sure. 

- Yes. He also asked if you could forward him the contract beforehand... - you run the wooden spatula through the middle of the pan to check the consistency, and it was perfect, so you turned off the heat and turned around. 

- Sure, I can do that right now, I have it somewhere in my emails. - you had to get your phone from the bedroom. It wasn't hard to find the right message, and you passed your cell to Toto, so you could fill in the email address since you didn't know it, but instead of just taking your phone, he pulled you closer in such a way, that your back was pressed against his chest, and he rested his chin on your right shoulder. You gently pressed your cheek to his hair, and put your free hand on his neck.

You stayed like that for a moment, but he eventually took your phone from your hand, unlocked it, and send the email with your contract to his lawyer. 

- Dinner is ready by the way... Are you done with work? - you asked when he put your phone screen down on the kitchen island. 

- Mhm... - he mumbled and gave you a tighter squeeze before finally letting you go, so you could plate the food, while he put his laptop away, so he wouldn't be tempted to do more. - It looks amazing, Schatzi.

- It tastes even better. - you smiled and while he moved the plates to the small, round table next to the window, you poured two glasses of the same wine you used to make the glaze with, and placed one closer to him.

- Ok, now tell me what you came up with. - he requested when you were finally sitting at the table, and you rested your feet on his chair, next to his thigh. He started slowly eating, and you told him about your plans about the type of company you'd think would be the best for this whole endeavor, which was a private company limited by shares, who you'd like to have in your team and why, how to go about the recruitment process, what equipment you’d like to start with, and the general idea for the set aesthetics; you wanted it to be elegant and consistent, but easy to travel with, because you suspected that not everyone you wanted to interview would be ready to drop everything and come to England for a day, and you didn't want something flashy, because the conversation itself was supposed to draw the most attention. 

After he finished eating, and you still continued talking, he gently rested one hand on your calf, while the other played with a glass of wine. He was asking some clarifying questions here and there, because your brain was galloping so fast, that sometimes you skipped a few sentences out loud, trying to get to the point as soon as possible. 

At first, you didn't even realize that he started very gently massaging your leg with a knuckle of his thumb, while you leaned back in your chair, but when your brain finally caught up, you couldn't help but smile. He knew you were on your feet all day, and even though you weren't in pain, he still thought about helping you in ways you haven't thought about. 

- You're handling it very well, Schatzi, I just have one remark. - you nodded, encouraging him to continue, while you finished your wine. - And believe me, it pains me to say it, but you shouldn't start with the Mercedes team, not even with Lewis, even though everyone knows you two are friendly. - he let his words sink in, and your first reaction was to go to that irrational place, where the voices were screaming at you that he thought you weren't good enough to interview his drivers or him. But then he caught your gaze, and you realized what he truly meant because there was no way he would hurt you like that. 

- Our relationship will be out before the first interview... And people might think that either I or you are playing favorites, and I might get accused of not being objective. - you finished the thought for him.

- Precisely. - you couldn't stop the sigh that left your lungs. He, of course, was right, and you knew he didn't mean it in a malicious way, but it wasn't something you even considered yet. Lewis was a safe option, but now... Now you would actually have to do some networking. - If you're taking suggestions, I would recommend Daniel for the first interview. He's popular right now, and his name would pull in the audience. - it was a good suggestion, and you would definitely consider it, just... not now. There was still a lot to do before you could even start thinking about potential guests. - Have you thought about where your offices would be? - another question that definitely needed an answer. 

- I haven't... But in my defense, I've been thinking about it for about two hours total. - you put your hands up in a defensive gesture, but it was just for show. To be honest, he probably thought about it even less, but he had much more experience in running anything than you, so you were grateful for any advice or input. 

- How about your flat in London...? - he suggested, and you immediately tensed up, not sure where he was going with it. - It's big enough to store equipment and you could remodel the living room into an office space. I assume researchers and editors could work from home...? - you nodded cautiously. - So, you don't need desks for all the people at the same time, and they could rotate. You could also soundproof your bedroom and remodel it into a recording studio. And you could finally move in with me... - and there it was. It was a sneaky way to ask, and it's not like you haven't talked about it before, but now your biggest obstacle was beginning to crumble and move out of the way. There was a long moment of silence while you were reconsidering every argument, every pro and every con. 

- Fine... - you finally said and shook your head in disbelief, still unsure what it all meant, but a giant smile bloomed on your face, despite the mellow word you chose to use. 

- Fine...? - he made sure because even though he asked, he didn’t know what your response would be. 

- Fine, I will officially move in with you. - you laughed quietly. - But I'm not just gonna call the moving company and move all my stuff in one day, you have to give me time to adjust, ok...? - even though you really wanted to do that, you were a little bit scared. You loved him, and he loved you, and it should be as simple as that, but you couldn't think yourself out of the emotions you felt. 

- Fine... - he purposefully mirrored your choice of word, and leaned in, reaching for your hands to pull you closer, and when you did, he placed a soft kiss on your lips. - Go rest, Schatzi... You cooked; I'll clean. - he put your leg back on the floor, so he could leave his chair. Technically the cleaning service could take care of everything tomorrow, but you enjoyed that he wanted to share the chores, and you couldn't help but wonder what living with him full-time would be like...

It's not like you've never been to his house, because you spent many, many nights there. And on top of that, there were all the days you've spent together in hotel rooms when either of you was traveling for work, so you already had a pretty good idea, but full-time...? And more importantly, you would have to start calling his house your home, which would take some adjusting. But the gardens... You smiled just thinking about them.

You didn't want to go to bed yet, so you opted out for a couch where you could observe what he was doing behind the kitchen island. 

There wasn't a lot of cleaning to do, because your unintended training meant that you were washing everything as you went, but it was still nice knowing, that you didn't have to do everything alone. Now or ever... Because you couldn't imagine your life without Toto in it.