The States

honey

Emily wakes up to the sound of pots and pans clattering and knows that Nate isn't in bed before she even opens her eyes.

She pulls her phone off the charger, pressing the home button to check the time.

6:43 AM

Emily wrinkles her nose and kicks the blankets away. She slips her phone in the pocket of what used to be Nate's pajama pants but were definitely hers now. He was never getting them back. She didn't care that they were long on her. They had pockets.

The second she gets out of the bedroom the smell of honey hits her, and she follows it to the kitchen.

Nate is stirring something with a whisk, and Emily just leans against the doorframe and watches for a while.

There was always something amazing in watching Nate cook. She was sort of useless in the kitchen- she could toss something into the microwave or the oven, but frying things was about as complicated as she could get. Nate, on the other hand, could whip up insanely amazing things. She'd seen the wedding cake he'd made when Evangeline had called in some favors for a wedding she was working. It'd been a beautiful four-tiered creation with gum paste flowers and sugar pearls. She wasn't entirely sure what gum paste was, but Ev had seemed excited so it must be cool.

Nate huffs and blows his hair out of his face and Emily pulls an ever-present hair tie from her wrist and moves to tie it back.

He must have heard her, because he doesn't startle at the sudden touch, only leans his head down so she can reach it better.

She gathers up Nate's black hair, and maybe she does run her fingers through it a little more than necessary, but who can blame her when Nate's hair is so soft and fluffy.

Emily snaps the hair tie into place, batting at the tiny little ponytail she managed to create.

He'll cut it soon- he always does- but she likes it when it gets this way. It's in that awkward stage of both too long and too short, but she thinks it's cute when he sighs and blows it out of his eyes.

Emily sighs as she wraps her arms around his waist, burying her face in between his shoulder blades.

Two months ago, when they'd made the tentative decision to give this a try, she'd never thought it would be like this.

Well, she isn't sure what she expected, but it certainly wasn't hugs in the kitchen at seven in the morning while Nate makes- actually, she isn't sure what those are supposed to be.

Nate responds to her unspoken question. "They're chamomile and honey macarons."

Emily hums. She'd eat anything sweet. It used to get her in trouble when she was a kid and would raid Will's stash of candy. Mostly she stuck to chocolate, but she had a weak spot for honey and Nate knew it.

She pulls her face back from where it's been pressed to Nate's back enough that he can hear her question. "Bad night?"

Nate had bad nights and bad days sometimes, and right after they'd started dating, Marisol had pulled Emily to the side to say just because you're clean doesn't mean you don't miss it and to warn her that Nate wasn't always going to be okay.

Nate moved to grab a piping bag and began pouring in the batter. "Inbetween night."

Just restless, then.

Emily clings to Nate as he pipes out perfect little circles, listening to him hum quietly.

She doesn't realize she's been dozing off until Nate moves to set the tray on the cooling rack.

"Don't those have to go into the oven?"

"You have to let them age. Come on, it'll be about 45 minutes."

Emily doesn't protest as Nate pulls her back to bed, cuddling up beside him as he sets a alarm to put the macarons into the oven.

"We should eat them for breakfast." Emily mutters, and Nate laughs.

"You and your sweet tooth."