I don't give a damn about my reputation

I wanna love you with everything i have

Bruce POV

"So, what time are we going on this date?" He smirks at me, flicking his pierced tongue against his bottom lip. Almost elegantly, he glided towards me, grabbing me by my waist.

"Ho- how did you know that's what I was gonna ask?"

He leans towards me, his lips pressed against my jawline

"It's a secret, Brucey"

I shudder as his breath hits my ear, goosebumps appearing on my arms

"Why do you- why do you have an earring in?" I inquire, turning my face towards him. He smiles again, gripping at the diamond in his ear

"I've got a gig tonight, I've gotta look good," he winks at me, moving away from me. He strides towards my wardrobe, flicking through my clothes. With an old purple shirt in his hand, he turns around, placing it in his back pocket.

"That'll do," he mumbles to himself, taking my hand in his "what do you want for breakfast? Pancakes? Waffles?"

"Vance, I appreciate the gesture, I really do, but my mum can't see you in her house. She would flip out."

"Oh, she left," he replied "she took your sister into town for shopping. Her treat she said."

I stare at him, my eyes wide.

My mum?

Taking my sister

For shopping?

I'm suddenly pulled out of my train of thought, a rough hand pulling me out of my room. I'm dragged down the hall, down the stairs and into the kitchen.
He pulls the chair out, gesturing for me to sit down. I oblige, a fork and knife shoved into my hand.

"I chef Hopper shall prepare a delicacy of mankind" he throws his arms in the air, his voice coated in a terrible French accent
"I shall prepare, la waffles and el pop tarts!" He shouts, dramatically opening my cupboard doors

I giggle at him, his hair bouncing as he moves

"Wait!" I shout, jumping up out of my seat "You need an apron." I go over to the rack by the dining table, my mums pink apron hanging from it. I pull it off the rack, making my way to Vance

"I ain't wearing a fucking apron." He warns, pulling a cigarette out of his pocket, lighting it with his other hand.

"You can't smoke! It's bad for you," I whine, grabbing at the cigarette, which he held high above my head.

"Fine," I huff "if you wanna smoke in my house, you gotta wear the apron."

"Fuck that"

"Please Vance, pretty please."

"Nope"

I quickly put the apron around his neck, tying it behind his neck. He puts up no protest as I tie the other strings around his waist.
"There," I giggle, looking at the boy in front of me

He groans as he places the cigarette in his mouth, his hair big and poofy

"You look like someone's mom in their 40s" I giggle, holding my stomach from laughing

He points the lit cigarette at me, the ash falling form the end
"Get sat Down then. Or I'm making you baby food."

Still giggling, I sit back down in my chair, grabbing the fork and knife on the table

A few minutes later, a plate is placed in-front of me, full of pancakes, waffles and two pop tarts

"Bon appetite," he smiles, the apron still tied around his neck and waist as he sits beside me. I begin to eat the breakfast, each bite better than the last.

My dad doesn't let me eat sweet food very often

He says it will ruin my baseball game

"So, are you gonna come and watch my band tonight?"

I turn towards Vance, his eyes bright and full, as though he couldn't contain his excitement

"Weren't we suppose to go on a double date with Robin and Finney?" I ask, his face brightening even more

"Yeah, we can still do that shit. But we can go to my bands venue for the date. It sells food, booze and you can support your boyfriend at one of his first gigs."

"Hm," I think about it for a second. "Sure! I can tell Robin and Finney that plans had changed?"

"Oh I already did. I rang them with your house phone."

I stare at him, my mouth slightly agape

"Wow, you really have this all figured out?"

He leans towards me, his lips millimetres from mine
"Obviously"

He plants a soft kiss on my lips, pulling away to finish his breakfast

"Hm, never thought I would actually kiss the cook."

We both erupt into laughter, finishing our breakfast slowly.

I will admit

Vance is an excellent cook

"It's at 7 tonight, so I wanna get there at 5:45 to prepare. I can get you and the other decent seats."

I find myself unable to hear the rest of what Vance was saying. My eyes were too busy examining his face. His delicate freckles splattered across his face, his plump, cherry lips shining under the kitchen light, his bright, blonde curls sitting perfectly upon his head. His tongue flicked out of his mouth, that silver piercing reflecting the light from above him.

"You're gorgeous"

He suddenly stopped in his tracks, his cheeks turning the same shade as his lips

"Whatcha say?"

He looks at me with those beautiful, blue eyes, almost like that of sapphires. He turns his whole body towards me, his face still red

"What did you call me?"

"I said your gorgeous. You are beautiful. I love your face, your lips, your eyes, your hair." I begin, watching Vance's face get redder as I speak

"I love your voice, your hands, your cooking, your hugs-

Im cut off by a set of curls against my face, Vance's arms wrapped around my torso.

He's hugging me

"Do- do you mean that?" He croaks, his voice sounding slightly lower than usual

"Yes Vance. Every word"

He grips onto me tighter as I slip my fingers into his hair. That familiar smell of cinnamon floods my nostrils

"I wanna love you with everything I have"