The Nights We Stay Awake (TemperancexReader)

53. "Flour in your hair"

Temperance pov

I wake up the next morning to the smell of coffee and something faintly sweet drifting in from the kitchen. For a moment, i let myself just lie there, listening to the soft clinks of Y/n moving around in my space again. It feels strange, but also comforting in a way i didn't expect. I'm had gotten used to my solitude, my own routine, even if i hated it. So having someone else in my apartment almost feels foreign, yet... when it's her, right.

I finally drag myself out of bed and throw on a sweater before making my way to the kitchen, a chilly draft having made its way inside. Y/n's standing at the counter, humming to herself as she prepares something. Her hair is still a little messy from sleep, and she's wearing one of my old shirts, sleeves rolled up and an apron tied loosely around her waist.

"You're up early," i say, and she turns, smiling when she sees me.

"Couldn't sleep," she replies, holding up a wooden spoon. "Thought i'd start breakfast, but then i realised you've gotten a new oven i won't know."

I chuckle and move to stand beside her, glancing at the array of ingredients she's laid out. "What exactly are you making?"

"Pancakes, maybe? Or muffins. Not sure yet," she says with a shrug, stirring something in a bowl. "But i figured we start the day baking. Do something normal for once."

Baking. I can't remember the last time i baked anything. But looking at her, the way she's so eager to create something simple and sweet, i can't help but nod. "Alright. Let's bake, but then i got a surprise for you."

"What is it?" she asks, leaning in closer.

"Manage to turn on the oven and i might tell you," i flick her nose gently and she laughs. That wonderfully, full laugh.

We start puling our ingredients - flour, sugar, eggs - and i watch her move with an ease that i admire. Even though she's still recovering, she's pushing through it, determined to do something light and dun. I set the oven to preheat and grab a mixing bowl, ready to dive in.

"You know," she says, glancing over at me, "you've got this super serious face when you're baking. Like you're working a case."

"I'm just focused," i reply, rolling my eyes as i sift flour into a bowl. "Precision is important, even in baking."

She laughs, bumping her hip against mine. "Sure, but it's supposed to be fun too."

I smirk and toss a little pinch of flour in her direction. "Fun, huh?"

Her eyes widen, and she narrows them at me. "Did you just throw flour at me?"

"Maybe."

Before i know it, a small handful of flour lands on my sweater, and i blink at her in surprise. "Really?"

She grins, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "You started it, Brennan."

I wipe the flour from my sweater and give her a look that says you're going to regret that. Without another word, i grab a handful of flour from the counter and toss i back at her, catching her square on her chest.

"Oh, it's on now," she says, laughing as she grabs more flour, launching it towards me. I dodge, but some of it still lands in my hair, and i can't help but laugh as the game escalates.

Flour is flying everywhere - on the counters, the floor, in our hair - and soon the kitchen looks like a snowstorm hit it. I can't remember the last time i let loose like this, and i'm surprised by how good it feels, to just laugh and be playful without any expectations. Y/n is laughing too, her face covered in flour, her eyes bright and happy.

I take a step toward her, about to grab more flour, when she moves closer, her grin faltering just a little as she meets my eyes. We're both breathless from laughing, and there's a pause, a moment where everything else falls away. The laughter quiets, replaced by a soft tension, a pull that brings us closer.

Before i can think twice, she leans in and kisses me. It's sudden and messy, our lips meeting with same kind of urgency as before. I kiss her back, my hands moving instinctively to her waist, pulling her against me.

We stumble, caught up in the kiss, and i hear the sharp clang as the mixing bowl crashes to the floor, flour scattering everywhere. Neither of us cares. I feel her hands in my hair, her fingers gripping me like she's afraid to let go, and i respond in kind, deepening the kiss until everything else fades away- flour, the mess, even the world around us.

I back up slightly, feeling the edge of the counter against my hip, but Y/n follows, her lips not leaving mine, her hands roaming. My own hands find her waist, tugging her closer, needing her closer. The kiss is hot, frantic, like we're both trying to make up for lost time, for all the moments we held back.

When we finally break apart, both of us are breathing hard, the kitchen a disaster around us. I glance down at the spilled flour and the shattered bowl, and for a second, i think i should say something reasonable, something about cleaning up the mess.

But Y/n just laughs softly, shaking her head. "Guess we got a little carried away, huh?"

I chuckle, brushing some flour from her cheek. "Just a little."

She leans in and kisses me again, slower this time, more controlled, but still with hat same passion simmering beneath the surface. I lose myself in it, my arms wrapping around her as i hold her close, feeling her warmth and the steady rhythm of her heart against mine.

When we finally pull back, she gives me a sheepish grin. "So... should we actually bake something now, or just keep making a mess?"

I smile, unable to resist kissing her once more before answering. "Let's bake. But maybe without the flour wars this time."

We spend the rest of the morning cleaning up and finally making a batch of muffins, the kitchen still a bit chaotic but filled with laughter and the sweet smell of something baking. It's so simple, but it feels like exactly what i needed- what we needed. Just the two of us, together, in our own little world.