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The cozy warmth of your shared apartment wrapped around you as the scent of freshly chopped vegetables filled the warm, cinnamon-scented air from the air freshener you had used earlier.
You and Nobara had decided to spend the evening cooking together — a quiet, intimate night at home after a long day. The kitchen was your sanctuary, a place where you could both unwind and just be yourselves, away from the chaos of missions and the bustling streets of Tokyo.
Nobara stood at the counter, dicing the yellow onions with the confidence of someone who'd done this a hundred times before. You couldn't help but admire the way she moved—efficient, focused, yet with a certain grace that was uniquely hers.
You loved how perfect she was at everything. Literally, everything. But; her eyes still poured out tears as she cut up the demonic ass fuck ass vegetable.
"Can you pass me the garlic?" She asked, glancing over her shoulder at you with a smile that made your heart skip a beat. And tears that made you giggle a little.
You nodded, handing her the head of garlic and watching as she quickly peeled and minced it, the knife in her hand moving with practiced ease. "You know, you're really good at this," you said, leaning against the counter and smiling at her.
Nobara flashed you a grin. "I had a good teacher," she replied, giving you a playful nudge with her elbow. "Besides, I like cooking with you. It's fun."
You felt a warmth spread through your chest at her words. Cooking together had become a routine for the two of you—one of those little things that made your relationship so special. It wasn't just about the food; it was about the time spent together, the quiet moments of domesticity that felt so comforting.
As Nobara continued working on the sauce, you turned your attention to the pasta, dropping it into the salty, boiling water and stirring it gently. The two of you moved around each other effortlessly, a silent dance you'd perfected over time. It was moments like these that made you realize just how much you enjoyed being with her, how much you cherished these simple, everyday experiences.
"So," Nobara began, breaking the comfortable silence, "what do you think we should do for dessert?"
You looked up, catching the mischievous glint in her eye. "Are you thinking something chocolatey?" You asked, already knowing the answer.
Nobara laughed, the sound light and melodious. "You know me so well," she said, shaking her head with a smile. "How about brownies? We haven't made those in a while."
You nodded, already reaching for the ingredients. "Sounds perfect."
Hours after you two had eaten, you decided it was a good idea to start making desert.
As you began measuring out the cocoa powder and sugar, Nobara finished up cleaning off the dishes. She joined you at the counter, her shoulder brushing against yours as she helped you mix the batter. The closeness of her presence, the way her hand occasionally brushed yours, sent a thrill through you that you couldn't quite explain.
"You've got a little something..." Nobara said suddenly, her voice teasing as she reached out to wipe a smudge of batter from your cheek. Her touch lingered for a moment longer than necessary, her fingers warm against your skin. "How fucking hard were you mixing it you banshee?" She questions, ruining the intimate moment.
There was something in her gaze—something tender, something you'd seen flicker there before but had never been brave enough to name.
"Inbred..." you started, your voice barely above a whisper, but she cut you off with a soft, knowing smile.
"Shh," she said, her tone gentle, as if she could hear the unspoken words in your head. "I hate you."
And with that, she leaned in, closing the small distance between you. Her lips met yours in a kiss that was as sweet as it was unexpected. It wasn't hurried or urgent, just soft and warm—like the feeling of coming home.
When she pulled away, her smile was still there, but now it was softer, more intimate. "I've wanted to do that for a while," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
You felt a blush creeping up your neck, but you couldn't help but smile back. "Me too," you confessed, your heart racing in your chest.
Nobara laughed softly, the sound filled with a warmth that made your chest tighten in the best possible way. "Then it's about time," she said, squeezing your hand gently.
The rest of the evening passed in a blur of laughter and gentle touches. The brownies baked in the oven, filling the apartment with their rich, chocolatey aroma, and you couldn't help but feel like everything was falling into place. Cooking with Nobara had always been special, but now, with this new layer of intimacy between you, it felt even more so.
As you both sat down on the couch, in front of you and a warm tray of brownies cooling on the table on top of a pot rest, you couldn't help but feel grateful for this moment—for the simplicity, the closeness, and the unspoken bond that had finally been brought to light.
Nobara reaches over, taking your hand in hers and giving it a gentle squeeze. "I'm glad we did this," she said, her eyes meeting yours with a look that said so much more than words ever could.
You smiled, squeezing her hand back. "Me too."
And as you both dug into the brownies like apes, the warmth of the food and the comfort of each other's presence made the evening feel perfect—like this was exactly where you were meant to be.
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