The Piemaker and the Dead Girl

Sleep

Ned glanced at Chuck, who was fast asleep on the couch. There was a strand of hair covering her face. His gaze lingered on her before he set the hot pie on the kitchen island with his baking gloves and placed two cups and two forks beside it. He poured orange juice into them, and tilted his head, surveying his work. Satisfied, he turned back to check on Chuck. She was still asleep on the couch and was snoring lightly.

Ned cleared his throat once, then twice, before Chuck woke up. She shifted on the couch and looked around blearily before focusing on him. "Ned?" Ned smiled and gestured to the kitchen island. "I come bringing food. Apple pie, to be specific." "My favorite," Chuck yawned, getting up and making her way to the kitchen island across Ned. The strand of hair was still on her face. He hesitated and, still wearing the gloves, pushed it gently out of her face. "Better," he murmured. "You look pretty. I mean, you always look pretty. You just look-" he smiled. Chuck smiled back at him, and it was filled with longing, surprise, and happiness. It mirrored what he was feeling. She looked at him for a second before picking up her orange juice. She held it up and he did the same. "Cheers!" They clinked.