My Husband is Nanami Kento

6-Breakfast in bed

When I opened my eyes the next morning, I felt different. My mind felt calm and serene, like rolling green meadows and blue skies.

I was covered with the blanket, the bed warm. I've never been this comfortable in my bed before. My body was well rested, despite our ravenous night. My muscles felt like jelly, and I didn't want to get up.

I tapped next to me on the bed, feeling for Nanami, but he wasn't there. I knew that if he was, I would be snuggling at his side. I peeked open an eye, the curtains were still closed, but the soft morning light peeked through. With my blurry vision, I saw the clock read 10 am. To my surprise, the delicious aroma of breakfast filled the air, gently nudging me awake.

The sharp smell of coffee reached my nose. It was a quick wake-up call, and I rose from the bed stretching. That's when Nanami walked in, a tray in hand.

With an affectionate smile, he set the tray down gently on the bedside table, showcasing a delightful breakfast he had lovingly prepared. The table was adorned with a colorful array of fresh fruits, a steaming cup of aromatic coffee, and a beautifully arranged plate of pancakes topped with a medley of berries. The sweet aroma of maple syrup lingered in the air, tempting my taste buds.

His eyes twinkled with anticipation as he said, "Good morning, love. How are you feeling? Did you rest well?"

"Yes, it's a good morning indeed," I replied.

"I wanted to start your day with a special treat."

I was overwhelmed by his thoughtfulness and love. It was a gesture that spoke volumes, conveying his appreciation and care for me.

"Thank you, join me?" I spoke.

Before digging in, I went to the bathroom quickly. Meanwhile, Nanami had folded the blanket and arranged the pillows against the headboard of the bed. He placed the tray in the middle of the bed, and we sat opposite each other, creating a romantic setting.

The tray was adorned with a delicious spread. A vibrant bouquet of fresh berries adorned a stack of fluffy pancakes, glistening under a drizzle of golden maple syrup. Alongside this feast lay a bowl of sliced oranges, apples, and grapes, their colors a mosaic of freshness.

I realized he must have been awake since the early hours of the morning to prepare something special for me. The spread was not only visually appealing but also a testament to his care and effort.

The first thing I lifted to my lips was the coffee. It's an enticing aroma, a soothing balm to my soul. When I set down the mug, a relieved sigh escaped my lips. The sweet scent of pancakes mingled with the earthy aroma of freshly brewed coffee, filling the room with a sense of comfort and warmth.

Before I could touch my plate, however, Nanami beat me to it. I watched with confusion as he cut smoothly through the pancake stack using a knife.

Then, stabbing a bite of pancakes, he lifted the fork to my mouth.

"Na..Nanami?"

He leaned in closer and simply commanded, "Open."

"I...I can do it myself," I stuttered, embarrassed, and moved to take the fork from his hands.

"No," he insisted, pulling the fork from my grasp, "I'll feed you."

I was bashful and I refused, but he just held the fork in front of my mouth with a look of determination in his eyes. The pancakes were soaked with syrup, and he had a hand underneath to prevent spills.

"Eat," he urged me, waving the suspended bite in the air like an airplane.

With my cheeks red like a balloon, I obliged, leaning down to engulf the food in my mouth.

The sheets of pancake were so fluffy they floated in my mouth. The maple syrup was also well-soaked, and its sweetness increased my happiness hormone. The pancakes weren't too sweet even with the added maple syrup, and it was perfectly buttery and smooth.

Nanami makes the best pancakes.

As soon as I swallowed, another bite was waiting for me. This time I accepted it without much fight.

"It's good?" he asked me, which was ridiculous. Anything Nanami prepares tastes nothing short of delicious. In the kitchen, he was a culinary artist at work. With a focused demeanor that suggested a deep concentration on creating something truly special.

"The best," I told him, grinning, "If I wake up to this breakfast every morning, I will die a happy woman."

Nanami gave me a gentle smile, "I'll cook it for you every morning, and no talk about death."

I chuckled, "But we said that in our vows already, 'till death do us apart'."

"Hmm," he hummed in agreement, preparing my next bite, "but I have no plans for that anytime soon."

I grinned, taking the next bite. Nanami was romantic when he wanted to be. His affection and love were present in the small gestures and the little acts that are easily overlooked, like walking on the car side of the road or clutching me to prevent a fall. It's the little things like these that get my heart racing and my chest swelling with love.

With every bite, I tasted not just the delicious food but also the affection and gratitude he poured into each element of the meal. It was as if each flavor carried a story of his love for me. As I savored each bite, the flavors danced on my palate, and my heart swelled with warmth, grateful for my husband who expressed his feelings through such thoughtful gestures.

It wasn't just about the breakfast; it was about the effort he put in to make my morning special, expressing his love and gratitude in the simplest yet most heartwarming way possible.

It was about the love and appreciation woven into every slice of fruit and each perfectly cooked pancake. His efforts spoke volumes, evoking a depth of emotion that made the morning feel truly extraordinary. It was a breakfast-in-bed that filled my heart as much as it satisfied my taste buds.

Deciding to return the affection, I grabbed my fork and picked a piece of sliced orange to his face. A bewildered expression took over his face.

"Come on, say ahh," I imitated playfully.

Smiling, he leaned forward, accepting the bite with exaggerated gusto, pretending to savor the morsel as if it were the most delicious thing he'd ever tasted. We both erupted into laughter, thoroughly enjoying this impromptu game of sharing bites and exchanging playful banter.

Slowly, bite by bite, alternating in feeding each other, we cleared the breakfast tray. Feeling content in more than one place other than my belly, I leaned back against the mattress as Nanami picked up the tray to take it to the kitchen.

"Leave it there," I shouted after him, "Come sit with me."

Following my words, he did just that. He came back to bed, and we sat next to each other. I snuggled up to him immediately, an instant body reaction that I had no control over. He leaned to claim my lips in a loving kiss before taking out the book that he had with him.

I giggled, thinking my husband was such a bookworm.

With the glasses perched on his nose, he looked attractive and hot. Heat flowed through my veins, wanting to initiate things. But I was happy, so I left it to him.

I decided I would complete the latest embroidery project I was working on. After retrieving it from the living room, I resumed my position next to my husband and got started on the flowers.

Side by side, we enjoyed our time. Between intervals, we would chat a bit. Nanami pointed to a particularly bizarre scene in the book he was reading, and we giggled together.

Sometimes I would grumble about a thread being stubborn and he would help me with it. Attempting his best even with zero knowledge of threading.

Our breakfast-in-bed had transformed into a lighthearted, joyous affair, filled with love, laughter, and shared moments that brought us even closer together. It was these simple, playful interactions that made our bond stronger, reminding us of the joy in the little things and the happiness found in each other's company.