The Nights We Stay Awake (TemperancexReader)

55. "Bossy in the kitchen"

Temperance pov

The evening light filters into the kitchen, casting a warm glow over the countertops as Temperance and i move around each other, preparing dinner. We've been at it for a while now, and honestly, it's taking longer than necessary, but i can't stop laughing long enough to actually cook anything.

"Y/n, you're chopping the onions all wrong," Temperance says, shaking her head as she looks over at me. "There's a specific technique."

I raise an eyebrow, grinning. "You've got to be kidding me. They're onions, Tempe. I don't need a technique."

She rolls her eyes, stepping over to me and gently taking the knife from my hand. "You do if you want them to cook evenly. Here watch."

She starts slicing the onion with precise, quick movements, like she's performing surgery. I cross my arms, leaning against the counter with an amused smile.

"I didn't realise i was working with a master chef."

Temperance glances at me, a smirk tugging at her lips. "You're lucky i'm teaching you. Otherwise, we'd end up with a disaster on our hands."

I chuckle, grabbing a handful of mushrooms and pretending to shop them sloppily. "Like this?"

She gives me a mock horrified look. "That's it. I'm taking over."

Before i can protest, she's at my side, gently pushing me out of the way and taking control of the mushrooms too. I watch her with an exaggerated pout, but i'm secretly enjoying this. There's something comforting about being here with her, laughing, joking around, and just being us.

I grab a wooden spoon and nudge her playfully with her. "You're bossy, you know that?"

Temperance turns her head, narrowing her eyes at me but clearly trying not to laugh. "I'm not bossy. I'm efficient. There's a difference."

I laugh, tapping her shoulder with the spoon. "Sure, sure. Efficient. I'll remember that the next time you're telling me how to fold laundry."

She finally laughs, and the sound makes my heart flutter. "You're impossible, Y/n."

I shrug, smiling at her. "You love it."

She shakes her head but doesn't deny it, and i feel a surge of warmth fill me. This easy banter, this lightheartedness- it feels like home.

As we work side by side, the smell of garlic and herbs fill the kitchen, mixing with the sound of our laughter. Temperance tries to take control of every step, and i keep teasing ehr by doing things my way just to get a reaction. Every time i make a move she doesn't approve of, she steps in, trying to correct me, but it only makes me laugh harder.

At one point, i'm stirring the sauce, and she comes up behind me, wrapping her arms around my waist and resting her chin on my shoulder. "You're stirring too fast," she murmurs, her voice soft and teasing.

I turn my head to look at her, grinning. "Oh, am i? Let me guess- there's a technique for that too?"

She chuckles, her breath warm against my neck. "Maybe."

I lean back into her, feeling her warmth against me, and suddenly, i don't care about the cooking anymore. It's moment like this that makes everything word it- the quiet, simple moments where it's just us, laughing and enjoying each other's company.

We go back to cooking, bumping into each other, laughing when we spill things or when she gets too serious about following the recipe. At one point, we both reach for the pepper at the same time, our hands brushing, and she shoots me a playful look.

"You're hogging the pepper," i say, trying to take it from her .

She holds it just out of reach, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I'm the one cooking. I get to season."

I fake a gasp, placing a hand over my chest. "Excuse me, i thought we were cooking together?"

Temperance laughs, but then she hands me the pepper, shaking her head. "Fine. You can have the honours."

I take it, giving her a mock bow before dramatically seasoning the sauce. "Thank you, thank you. I'll be here all night."

As we finish up, the kitchen is a mess- flour dusted across the counter, vegetables half chopped, and the bowl we were mixing pasta in teetering dangerously close to the edge. I look around at the chaos and can't help but laugh.

"Good thing we're a scientist and a profiler," i say, shaking my head. "Because i don't think we're going to wind awards for cooking."

Temperance looks at the disaster we've created, a small smile playing on her lips. "We might not win awards, btu we're having fun."

I nod, feeling a sense of peace wash over me. "Yeah. We are."

Just as we're about to plate everything, i reach for the past bowl, but my elbow bumps it, sending it crashing to the floor. The sound of the bowl shattered echoes through the kitchen, and for a second, we both just stare at the mess.

"Oops," i say, trying to hide my grin.

Temperance looks at me, her eyes wide, but then she bursts our laughing, and i can't help but join in. it's the kind of laugh that makes your stomach hurt, the kind that feels so good because you're laughing with someone you love.

"I think we've officially failed as chiefs," she says between giggles.

I step closer to her, wrapping my arms around her waist and pulling her in for a kiss. "Maybe, but at least we're having a good time failing."

She kisses me back, her hands resting on my shoulders as she pulls me closer. The kiss is soft, lingering, and full of the kind of affection that makes me forget about everything else. It's just her and me, her in this messy kitchen, and i wouldn't have it any other way.

When we finally pull apart, we're both smiling, and i rest my forehead agastin hers. "I love you, you know that?"

She smiles, her eyes softening as she looks at me. "I love you too."

And in that moment, with flour still on the floor, sauce still bubbling on the stove, and laughter linginger in the air, everything feels perfect.

"Maybe we should order in."

"I think that's a great idea."

"Mila's?" I ask and she grins.