Yesterday - Bucciarati Fanfiction

Chapter 10 - Quite the pair

"Let's get to work then, dolcezza."

The recipe was not in itself hard, after browsing through one of Bruno's cooking books we found one that appealed to both of us and seemed easy enough. Having no clue where were most of the ingredients we needed, I was given the task to grab the eggs and some mixing bowl. Eggs, done. I set them on the counter, being careful not to let them roll off the edge then went on about my second task, taking the mixing bowl. "Too many cupboards, Bruno... How am I supposed to know where are your bowls?" I asked dumbfounded, quirking a brow.

Pointing the highest cupboard in the kitchen, he chuckled before starting measuring the ingredients. He knew well I was too short to reach it, I glared humorously at him but shrugged. "Sounds good." I said as is put a knee on the counter, climbing on the top of it to reach the cupboard. "They grey one or the glass one?" I asked from my spot, earning a confused look from Bruno once he noticed where I was. As he put what he had in hand, on the counter, he stepped towards me. "Cara - "interrupting him, I asked again, "Glass or grey?"

Sighing with a movement of his head, he grabbed the grey bowl and set it on the counter as I put the glass one back inside. "See? Easy." I scoffed proudly, moving my legs to have them dangling from the counter instead of kneeling on it. "Next time, ask me, cara. You could've tripped." He said with a kind smile, helping me off the counter like a toddler. That was embarrassing, I could've gotten off that thing myself, I thought, my cheeks slightly red.

"Now that everything's prepared-" "we shove it in the mixing bowl, and we mix." I finished Bruno's sentence, with a smirk. I heard him laugh fully but then he shook his head, separating the ingredients on the counter. "Patience. First, we mix the dry ingredients, then we had the rest." He explained, plugging the mixer in, then setting it down. I found it amusing that a mafioso was so knowledgeable on cooking and baking, when did he find time to do all that?

Rolling up my sleeves, I nudged the raven-haired man with my hips. "How about some music? It's not fun without it." I asked him grinning. Nodding in response, he gestured the Bluetooth speaker on the shelf behind us. Beaming brightly, I hopped over and connected my phone, putting on a random playlist with a variety of songs. "Let's get this bread- I mean cake." Determined, I joined Bruno's side, bobbing my head to the beat and poured every dry ingredient in the bowl, grabbing the mixer and turning it.

Perhaps I was too enthusiastic. I may have made a mistake. I turned off the mixer as quickly as I turned it on, having spilled some mix all over and put it down. Without a word, I slowly face Bruno who was watching me with the stupidest smile, trying to hold back his laughter. Calming himself down, he softly remarked "Maybe, avoid putting on full power?" losing it he let out a throaty laugh as he let his head fall back a little.

"Har har, could you pass me a towel at least?" I asked in fake anger, a small smile on my lips. I did believe I was going to make it through this baking session without any problem, but I was too hyped by the song playing that I didn't think much. "There," he said, dabbing a moist towel on my face, holding my chin to stop me from moving too much. "I could have done it myself, but thank you. I'm not such a mess usually- I was just too pumped up." I kept on requiring his help, the fight, the stitches... I felt the need to justify myself even though I was not at fault.

Chuckling, he finished cleaning my face and put the towel down. "I've noticed, it was adorable." He replied with a genuine smile before giving me the mixer again, "Let's do this again." He encouraged me, leaning on the counter to watch me do it this time. I'm not that bad of a baker to make the same mistake twice, second time's a charm: I didn't spill anything and we were able to proceed to the next step without any trouble.

Now that the batter was done, smooth and delicious looking we were finally going to be able to bake the cake properly. Bruno brought a pan and greased it with butter and then poured everything in the pan, scraping the bottom of the bowl with the spatula. I looked at him deadpanned, a feeling of betrayal in my core when I noticed there was no more batter at all, in the bowl. What was I supposed to lick? A smile was displayed in the corner of his mouth as he put down everything, quirking a brow.