Into the Snow || A Captain America Love Story

22

     "Got the whisk," Steve announces, placing the whisk on the countertop.
     "Good," I say. "Now, for the last part before we start."
     I skip to the pantry and snatch two aprons off of the hanger on the door. I hold them up in front of Steve, a huge grin spreading across my face.
     "Okay, I didn't agree to that." Steve says, staring at the aprons.
     "Would you rather have a pink one?" I tease.
     He rolls his eyes and smiles, taking the gray apron from my hand.
     "I can't believe I'm doing this." he mutters, tying the string behind his back.
     "Oh c'mon," I say. "It'll be fun."
     I tie my own blue apron behind my back, laughing at Steve.
     "That's Tony's by the way." I tell him, referring to the apron.
     "Ew, gross!" he exclaims, cringing.
     I laugh and get the carton of milk from the refrigerator.
     "Four eggs," I remind myself, grabbing them.
     "What else?" Steve asks.
     "Vanilla, baking powder, baking soda, flour, salt, butter, and sugar." I say, Steve rushing around the kitchen to find the ingredients.
     "Got it!" Steve exclaims, placing the bag of sugar on the table with the other ingredients.
     I get a mixing bowl and pan from a cabinet and begin. We wash our hands and I spray the pan with a cooking spray, setting it off to the side.
     "Alright, first hard part." I tell Steve, dragging him over to the oven. "Preheat the oven to 350 degrees."
     He stares at the oven, becoming overwhelmed by the buttons.
     "Press 'Bake'." I say calmly.
     Steve presses a shaky finger to the button that reads bake. 350 appears on the small screen of the oven.
     "Now, I already have it on 350, but to increase it, you need to press plus button. To decrease the temperature, press the minus button." I say, pointing to each button.
     "Okay, okay, I understand." Steve says, nodding his head.
     "Now press 'Start'." I say.
     Steve presses the correct button.
     "It will beep when it's ready." I inform him.
     "That's good to know," he says.

•••

     "Be careful," I inform Steve.
     "I am," Steve says as he pours the flour into the mixer.
     "When you start this one, set it on a low setting. If not, flour will go everywhere." I tell him.
     "Making a cake is a lot harder than I thought." he says, scratching the bridge of his nose.
     I snort after he removes his hand.
     "What?" Steve asks.
     "You have a little something right there." I say, pointing to the smudge of flour on his nose.
     "I haven't said anything, but you should look at yourself." Steve says laughing.
     I gasp and look at my reflection on the side of the metal mixing bowl. Sure enough, there is a streak of flour along my right cheek.
     "Guess what?" I say, running the tips of my fingers across the flour covered counter.
"What?" Steve asks grinning.
"You have more flour on your face than I do." I say, quickly swiping my floury fingers across his cheek.
"No, you do." he says, doing the same to me.
"Oh, it's on." I say.
Flour. Flour everywhere. And by everywhere, I mean us. After many handfuls of flour, Steve and I look like people from centuries ago, the white powder plastering our faces.
"I missed a spot," Steve says, booping my nose with a floury finger.
"Very funny," I laugh, doing the same to him. "Boop."
His baby blue eyes cross when I do, looking adorable. We both burst into laughter after looking at each other again.
"I should probably start this," Steve says, flipping the switch of the mixer to the lowest setting.
"Yeah," I say.
After the batter is mixed, Steve and I pour it into the pan and put it into the beeping oven.
"That was fun," Steve sighs after closing the oven and starting the timer.
"See? I told you." I say. "Now time for the frosting."