I can hear the clanging of pots and pans in the kitchen as I slowly creep down the stairs. Soft music drifts through the house along with Noah's singing, quiet and effortless lost in his own world.
"Morning." I say sleepily, leaning against the doorway, crossing my hands over my chest watching him work away.
"Fuck, Mar, I wanted to surprise you with breakfast in bed." He looks at me, genuinely upset that his plan has been ruined.
"Sorry, I had to get up. My backs a bit sore." I downplay the back ache I'm really feeling not wanting him to worry. "What you up to?" I ask, walking over to the kitchen island resting my hands on the countertop, stretching lightly against it.
"I'm trying to make you fluffy cinnamon pancakes." He replies, effortlessly flipping one right on que.
"Damn, you know exactly how to impress me." I wink, walking round the island to where he's standing in front of the stove. I wrap my arms around his waist, burying my face against his back, breathing him in.
Pine and peppermint. My favourite smell.
Home.
He chuckles softly, covering my hand with his own as he holds the pan in the other.
"You okay, baby girl?" His voice low and gentle.
"Of course. Just supervising. This kitchens seen too much already." I reply, earning another easy chuckle.
"Uh huh. Remember who created the sauce fiasco." He reminds me, and I can't help but huff at the bitter sweet memory.
"Yeah, yeah... you were out of town. I was left to my own devices. I blame you, really." I reply sarcastically.
"Go, sit down. I'll bring this over. Please." He gives me that look, the protective but slightly amused, raised eyebrow and lazy smirk that works every time. "Please."
I untangle myself, taking a seat at the island, tucking one leg beneath the other, which only makes me wince from the throbbing ache in my back.
"You okay?" He calls over, and I nod automatically.
"Peachy." I smile back, shifting into a more comfortable position.
"Hmmm." He hums, opening a kitchen drawer, raiding through its contents, pulling something free, then quickly closing it again with a dull thud.
I watch him, his back to me as he stacks the pancakes, fussing with them longer than necessary. Seconds later I hear the muted click of a lighter and a slow smile tugs on my lips.
He turns around, plate in hand, shielding the small open flame with his palm. The brightest smile is painted on his face as he slowly walks towards me taking his time like he's savouring this moment.
"Happy birthday baby girl." He whispers in my ear as he sets the plate in front of me, his other hand settling on my lower back, the gentle warmth easing the ache.
"Oh Noah..." I grin unable to find the right words, my voice catching despite myself. "Thank you..." I trail off my voice quiet.
"What for?" He murmurs his lips brushing against my ear.
"For this, for making me feel special." I nod towards the pancakes.
"Margo you are special... and it's your birthday you should feel special." He replies like it's the most obvious thing in the world.
He presses a kiss to my temple, lingering there for a moment, his hand still steady and warm on my lower back.
"Make a wish baby girl." He hums.
YOU ARE READING
Just Pretend
FanfictionMargo Brown, twenty five year old writer is desperate to pave her own path and to get out of her small town. A month before she is due to put down new roots in a new city her best friend Cassidy invites her along to a concert playing it off as Marg...
