Me and Bear

Chapter eight

Austin

A stray beam of sunlight, hitting me square in the face is what wakes me. How is that even possible when I'm more or less completely mushed into Bruin? I really have to remember to close my blinds before I fall asleep. It's nice and dark when I fall asleep but waking because a stream of sunlight is looking for my eye is not my favourite way of waking.

I shift slightly to push my face even more into Bruin's neck and his arms tighten around me, for a moment his grip is strong enough that I can't properly get air into my lungs. Then he relaxes again and I realise he had stretched while he squeezed me. He's awake. He acts like he isn't, though.

It feels so endearing for whatever reason and I slide my hand, from where it rests under my chin, over his muscular chest to squeeze him back with as much strength as my sleep-ridden muscles can manage. Bruin chuffs quietly and kisses the top of my head. I cringe as I remember the state my hair was in last night, there is no way it got any better during the night. He doesn't let me raise my head, pressing it to his shoulder. "Bruin." It comes out muffled, due to obvious reasons, and I huff, making him chuckle in return.

My stomach growls then, resembling an orchestra of dying whales and seals, demanding to be filled. Dear stars, I think to myself as I feel myself redden at the unanticipated interruption. The sound makes Bruin sit up, taking my half-asleep body with him and situating me back on his lap. "I'm a bear and I know exactly what that sound means: somebody's going to be eaten and I don't want it to be me. At least not yet." The bloody bear has the gall to wink at me and in my nearly comatose state all I can do is stare at him in disbelief. "At least let me make you dinner before we go there." Is what my brain comes up with and Bruin's eyes tinkle with mischief as he replies. "That's exactly what I was thinking, baby. You sure you're not the mind reader here?"

Before I can come up with another smart comment, thankfully, he slides us out of bed and walks, with me still cradled in his arms, to the kitchen. There, Bruin sets me down on the countertop and I shiver at the abrupt change of temperature against my thighs. Luckily, Bruin is already immersed in the contents of my fridge, otherwise stars know how the man would've fretted over me. Of course I enjoy his attentiveness but he would drive himself into a frenzy, worrying about me and my wellbeing.

Bruin surfaces from the fridge and places eggs, butter and milk on the counter next to me before looking around my kitchen. He locates the jar of sugar on the counter and digs out a sack of flour from one of the drawers. That particular drawer is filled with packages of different nuts, some pasta and my snacks are there, too. It is a chaotic mess of dry goods.

He rummages around my kitchen some more, placing a plastic bowl and a whisk next to the food items. Bruin turns to me with a happy glint in his eyes. "I'm going to make us some pancakes." I smile at his enthusiasm and the thought of having pancakes. I very seldom make them myself.

Bruin starts mixing the ingredients in a certain order, mumbling it to himself under his nose. At one moment he pauses before turning to the drawer he pulled the flour out of. After a bit of digging, he comes back with the small pink can of baking powder. He resumes the mixing and then starts whisking them into a nice and smooth batter. I hop off the counter and his head instantly whips towards me, stopping the whisking. "I'm going to take out the pan." I state as I step around him. Taking out my pancake pan, yes, I have a pan I use only for making pancakes, I place it onto the stovetop and take the bottle of cooking oil out of the fridge.

"Aren't you going to put a pinch of salt in it?" I ask him as I come up behind him, peeking at the batter and then looking up at him. "I'm making sweet pancakes, why would I put salt in them?" His eyebrows scrunch up as he tries to understand why would somebody put salt into their sweet treat. I shake my head and shrug my shoulders. "My mum used to say that putting a bit of salt into sweets makes them taste better because it gives them this depth, I guess. She said it makes sure they aren't overly sweet where you'll feel like you're eating just sugar."