Closure: Trafalgar Law X Reader

9

Rain pattered against the small kitchen window as you stood at the counter turning freshly mixed dough from the metal mixing bowl to the counter. Law wandered in yawning as he stopped at the coffee pot to fill his favorite mug. His silver gaze swayed over watching you knead the dough in front of you.

It was still a bit foriegn to see you cooking. You relaxed and focused on the task before you, sometimes even humming. He could see it was something you really loved and for some reason he enjoyed that. Satisfied with the dough you tore off a sheet of cling wrap and covered it placing it in the refrigerator to rest.

"Did you sleep?" your fiance asked taking a seat at the small table.
"More than I usually do," you moved to rinse the mixing bowl, "why?"
"You're up early cooking, just making sure that wasn't an all nighter."
"I just thought I'd make breakfast, I haven't been up much longer than you." setting the now clean bowl aside you pulled out a cutting board and knife.
"What are you making?"
You began dicing onions, garlic and bacon before adding them all to the skillet next to you, "A breakfast quiche. It's like a pie." Glancing over your shoulder you offered a small smile, "Don't worry there's no bread."

Law smirked slightly amused while you turned back to continue your task.

"Do you need any help?" he didn't know what made him offer and the way you paused told him you were just as surprised.
"Do you know how to cook?" you shot him an incredulous glance.
His eyes narrowed at your implication, "I've been responsible for feeding myself before and after we met."
"Hospital food doesn't count," you chuckled, "though I'll admit yours has exceptional cooks."
"Do you want my help or not?" he grumbled leaving the table to stand beside you.
"Ok, ok um," you hummed moving the mixing bowl and the carton of eggs in front of him, "you can crack six eggs in here and whisk them with some heavy cream, salt and pepper."

Taking an egg from the carton he gently cracked it against the edge of the bowl. Using one of his thumbs he tried prying the eggshell apart but instead smashed it dropping both the contents and the shell into the bowl.

An annoyed sigh deflated him.

You laughed grabbing a paper towel and handed it to him.

"Here, I'll show you a better way." you took the bowl and dumped it while he cleaned his hands and nodded.

Taking a new egg out you tapped it against the counter, "Crack it on a flat surface. The lip bowl pushes shells into the egg and makes things messier. Then place both of your thumbs on the weak spot and just pull it apart like this." cupping the shells into each other you tossed them in the trash.

"Alright," he muttered taking another and following your example.
"Perfect," you complimented, "you're a fast learner."

He only smirked and went on to the next while you pulled the resting dough from the fridge and began rolling it out into a perfect even circle. He could see you'd done this a million times. It was like second nature.

You rolled the dough up on the rolling pin and unrolled it over your pie tin before pressing it down and filling it with dry beans you kept in a jar in the cupboard. Finally you set it in the preheated oven and took your bacon off the stove to cool.

"You're putting beans in it?" he asked in an unexcited tone.
"Oh, no those are just for baking. They weigh the dough down and keep it from bubbling up." you added heavy cream to the cracked eggs for him while he rinsed his hands and nodded.

Once the pie crust was par-baked you removed it from the oven. Law clumsily whisked the egg mixture.

It was sort of amusing that both of you relied on your hands so much for your passions but with more than subtle differences. Law's motions were calculated and smooth, almost soft while yours were, strong, rough and littered with scars.