#teehee ....

Hmmm yknow cant remember I think it was a little underground artist called sleepingwiththeflowers you wouldn't know him ✋🏽🙄 and im gatekeeping so no links

It's the most mundane scene that's unfolded between them so far, Kane thinks — him before the stove, and Amelia hovering nearby. She's stolen at least two slices of tomato and equally as much of the flatbread he'd prepared.

“Let it cool down,” he told her. The demand fell on deaf ears, to no one's surprise. He, for a change, made a real effort not to bicker about it. Things had felt easy today ( so far, at least! ). As much as he enjoys arguing, he enjoys peace and quiet in his home more.

“You're like a bloody hamster, hoardin' food like that,” he grumbles — not in earnest, though, but rather in good humour. “You realise all this will taste better when eaten together properly, right?”

“Tastes pretty good to me already,” she deflects. Typical, expected, and again stirring a sense of amusement in him. For all the blood-boiling irritation she elicits in him, he's rewarded with moments in time like these, too. If only he weren't the type to hold a grudge; to remember the negative — to be a pessimist, in essence.

Before he knows it, and before he can get any sort of worked up about it after all, he feels a hand on the side of his face, and then on the other, turning him away from the stove and towards her.

Then, her lips on his — soft, warm, red, and undoubtedly staining his as she lingers.

For a moment, he considers letting the food burn in favour of throwing her over his shoulder and taking her to bed.