Cigarettes on the balcony

by Mel_24x7

Summary:

Moving in with Karasuma should have felt different- but it didn’t. The fact he was treating her like a random colleague certainly didn’t help.

Notes:

English isn't my first language, apologies for any spelling/grammar mistakes.

I also have no idea how ao3 works so bear with me.

Chapter 1: I

Irina glanced back at her empty apartment one last time. It was never very full, and it surely never felt like anything more than a temporary space she was forced to live in until her mission was over ,but now she felt weirdly hesitant to leave it. Her stuff amounted to two full boxes and a big suitcase, plus a few odd things in her handbag she couldn't stuff anywhere else. She wondered where she would store everything at Karasuma’s house while moving the boxes to her car but eventually decided to cross that bridge when she had to.

The drive to his house felt long, although it was fairly close to her apartment. Her usual well-curated playlist felt bland and annoying so she turned it off and continued the rest of the drive in silence, periodically broken by a loud car accelerating past her or a honk.

She knocked on his door awkwardly, only holding her bag and suitcase. She figured she could get the rest of her things once she saw the inside of the house and throw away whatever wouldn’t fit. Karasuma opened the door after a couple of seconds and let her in. He was trying to appear as normal as possible about everything but she could tell that deep down he felt just as awkward as she did. Irina briefly wondered whether he regretted asking her to live with him but decided against asking - at that moment anyway.

He showed her to a bedroom on the left side of the house. The room itself wasn’t that bad; it was pretty big and the window at the side of the room allowed the sun to stream in. The furniture was basic but functional, although it was missing a vanity she most definitely needed. The rest of the house was fairly basic; vaguely decorated and ,considering his work hours, barely used ,except for his home office. She noted that his room was at the other side of the house and wondered whether it was an accident or on purpose.

She ran back to her car and grabbed one of the boxes, spending the rest of the afternoon trying to fit every casual article of clothing she owned in a tiny closet and every makeup product in the bathroom cabinets. After completing her task she sat down at the corner of the bed, unsure of what to do next, so she decided to scroll through her phone for the next hour or so.

She still had no idea how he’d get her a job at the Ministry of Defence. She didn’t exactly have the most attractive resume or past work experience. She opened her messages- most of them were from other assassins or people she met working. Would she have to cut contact with everyone? They weren’t exactly friends, but they were the closest thing available in that profession. She decided against going down that train of thought at the moment. Her only consolation was the fact that lest things start going sideways, she could just ran away and leave the country. She felt a pang of guilt at the thought of leaving in the middle of the night, especially now that he was going out of his way to help her, but the thought eased the vague anxiety she felt. It would hurt but she would manage to pull her self together after a couple of months, pretending nothing ever happened and going back to what she knew. It’s not like she hadn't been through worse.

Eventually, she decided to move to the kitchen to try to find something to eat. Most of the edible items available were either instant or frozen food with a couple of fruits and vegetables in the fridge.

“There probably isn’t a lot to eat. Feel free to order something or buy groceries sometime.” he said, entering the room.

“What do you feel like eating?” she asked, abandoning the fridge and pulling out her phone to order something.

“Anything is fine. Is your room alright?”

“Yeah, it’s fine.” she answered curtly, while looking at the restaurants in the area. After checking out a few of them she decided to go with a Chinese restaurant a couple of streets down.

The first night was uneventful. Karasuma went to bed at around ten, while she decided to stay up until almost midnight watching a mind-numbing soap opera on TV, hoping to sufficiently tire herself out to be able to sleep at least half decently. Unfortunately it did not work and she still tossed and turned for the majority of the night. Between the threat of the world suddenly combusting in a few months and the uncharted territory she had entered, her thoughts were anything but happy and cheerful. She honestly couldn't decide what was worse- starting some kind of relationship and then getting blown to pieces the next day or surviving and being stuck in the world’s most awkward living arrangement; because knowing her luck it would surely be one or the other.

 

The next few days were similar to the first. Albeit a little less awkward, their interactions remained brief and purposeful. He was naturally quiet and she hadn’t really put much effort into initiating any kind of conversation. She wasn't sure how to treat him; they obviously didn’t have a kind of connection that could be classified as anything more than professional ,but how to act while living with a coworker wasn't included in the little pep talk they gave her before she took up the assignment. If he was feeling anything for her, he did a great job at hiding it and it was driving her crazy. She could have sworn she felt something in the way he talked to her during Valentine’s day but with every passing day she was beginning to believe she either made it up or completely misread the situation.

After the first week he seemed to get used to her presence in his house but no matter how much time passed, she never felt completely comfortable. When he had asked her to move in with him she had imagined that living with him would somehow make everything better; that it would be the home she never had. Unfortunately, even after the students’ graduation, she still felt an urge to run away and pretend nothing had ever happened. Starting her new job at the Ministry of Defence only made that urge more overwhelming; it wasn't as restrictive as she had imagined, probably due to the fact that no one trusted her with anything that wasn't strictly necessary to her work. Everyone she interacted with was polite but kept her at arms length, not that she blamed them for it.

Most of her workdays felt repetitive- a big part of the job was gathering information so most of the day was spent holed up in the office they gave her digging up dirt on people she didn't know to prove they committed ,or were planning to commit, a crime she knew nothing about. She would try to leave as soon as the work day was over but, considering her deadlines, it was impossible to do so every day, so staying late wasn't unusual. At first she believed that at least by being constantly occupied with work would mean she could get a few hours of uninterrupted sleep every night but she soon realised it didn't improve her situation in the slightest.

 

After waking up at two in the morning due to the familiar nightmare she had for the better part of the last decade and wasting another half an hour tossing and turning in her bed, she gave up and moved to the balcony outside of the living room, picking up an old pack of cigarettes on the way. She had tried to quit in the spirit of changing her past habits when she first moved in ,but nothing she tried could replace the familiar taste in her mouth or the warmth in between her fingers.

The wind felt like heaven on her skin in contrast with the warm interior of the house and the lights of the city provided a comfortable background to the whirlwind of thoughts in her head that only paused long enough to remind her to smoke her cigarette.

About half way through it she suddenly snapped back to reality by the feeling of someone behind her, recognising Karasuma’s vague shadow at the entrance of the balcony.

“Can't sleep?” he asked and the sound pierced through the pure silence she got used to.

Irina hummed in response and toyed with the cigarette in her hand.

“I thought you quit. You haven’t smoked since you moved here, anyway.”

“Well, I guess I haven't.” she responded quickly, turning back to the city under her. She knew he was just making an observation but she didn’t need to feel scrutinised on top of everything else at that moment.

He stayed silent for a moment before taking a step back inside the house. “I’m getting a drink, do you want one too?”

She contemplated the offer for a minute before putting out her cigarette on the railing and walking inside. The house felt warm and she immediately missed the breeze. Following him to the kitchen, she watched as he grabbed the bottle of vodka she had bought a week ago from the freezer and poured some in two glasses. After giving her one, he sat near the table, waiting for her to do the same but she opted to lean on the counter top instead; feeling too restless to sit.

“How was work?”

“Okay.” She huffed, walking towards the window over the sink. Of course his only topic of conversation would be work related. She honestly couldn't remember a singular conversation they had since she moved in that didn't have to do with work. They fell back in silence for a minute and Irina was content with staring at the almost full moon in the middle of the clear night sky, retreating back to her thoughts.

“Tonight’s the fifth night in what?- Two months?” He said calmly.

It took her a second to focus on reality and process what he had told her, but once she did, she felt her body tense up. It was the fifth time she woke up in cold sweat after a nightmare. She had never really discussed them with anyone -mostly because she couldn't think of a singular person that would care-, but after moving in with him she felt uncharacteristically ashamed of them and tried to deal with the emotional whirlwind they brought as quietly and quickly as possible, putting on the most cheerful mask she could the next morning; Evidently, she wasn't doing a good job at either. She turned around to look at him for the first time that night. He was toying with his drink, looking at her as if he was just talking about another assignment at work.

“Contrary to popular belief, I notice things.” He added, noticing her confusion.

“I can hear you moving around the house. Even if I couldn’t, it’s obvious the morning after.”

“It happens sometimes. It’s not a big deal.” She mumbled, feeling her face heat up.
She regretted ever leaving the safety of the balcony. He could always more or less see through her act but the knowledge that he could read exactly what she felt made her uncomfortable. She hated feeling vulnerable, more so when the source of the feeling was a man that wouldn't even look at her twice if she wasn't working with him.

He took a sip from his drink before putting it down next to him. “You haven’t really touched your room. I know you’re used to living at one place for a brief amount of time but this is different-“ He sounded like he had more to say but as soon as he saw her expression he paused.

She had prayed to every god she could think of to avoid this conversation and she was once again, unsurprisingly, let down by every single one of them.

“Unless it’s not different.” he sighed, standing up and taking a couple of steps towards her.
“I only offered you a position here because I thought you’d want it. If you are unhappy then please don't feel the need to stay for my sake-“

“I’m not unhappy.” She cut him off before realising she had no idea how she was feeling. She was tired and numb and the only thing she could really feel at that moment was how warm the kitchen was and the taste of her cigarette and vodka in her mouth.

“…Well- I don’t know…”

“If you feel that you were happier before maybe you should go back to your old life.”

His tone hurt her. It was so casual, like he was talking about the weather. The only reason she even agreed to live with him was because she loved him. She had thought that him going out of his way for her was a sign -a hint- that maybe he felt something for her too, but after living together for four months she gave up on the idea. He was nothing short of professional, albeit on the friendly side. The fact he was so calm about this angered her; she wasted months of her life and he couldn’t care less whether she stayed or left.

“Well, if it matters so little to you, maybe I should leave.” she snapped back, walking away from him.

He seemed surprised by her reaction and watched her take a couple of steps before reacting.
“That’s not what I meant.” he insisted, walking behind her.

“Really? What did you mean then because from my perspective you tolerate my presence here.”

“I- I do not.”

“Why did you ask me to move in with you?” she asked, facing him again.

“Why did you accept if you knew you wouldn’t be happy here?”

She scoffed at his answer. Of course he wouldn’t grace her with an answer to her question.

“Why? The way you asked me, the fact that it was Valentine’s day and we had just left dinner together, for fucks sake- was I really crazy to think that maybe you liked me?”

He flinched at the last part and stayed quiet.

“Well?” She asked again, walking closer to him.

“I do like you.” He confessed and her eyes widened.

“You’ve been treating me like a coworker you’re forced to live with all this time just to tell me that you like me?”

“I didn’t want to force something on you.” He said but quickly elaborated when he saw her expression. “I mean, you just went through a major change and you live in my house. I didn’t want you to feel like you had to reciprocate anything to keep your job or your home.”

Something about the way he said it melted all her rage. She couldn’t remember another man she interacted with that would ever be so considerate- that would even take a second to think about how she was feeling.

 

“I do reciprocate- I have for so long.” She answered truthfully.

“I’m not unhappy here. It’s… new; but that doesn’t mean I want to go back to how I was before.”

He stayed quiet for a moment, as if he was analysing her answer to make sure she wasn’t lying.

“Well, I’m glad. For the record, I don’t want you to leave.”

“I’m not planning to.”

He stayed silent, looking at her and Irina took the chance to take a couple of steps closer to him.

“Honestly, how can you be surprised I like you? I thought that was made pretty clear a while ago.”

“I’m not that oblivious, I just… needed something more straight-forward.”

She smiled at him before walking closer, close enough to feel his breath on her skin. She stayed still for a moment, allowing him a window to back out if he wanted but he didn't move away from her.

She slowly placed her hand on his jaw, pulling him lower before pressing her lips on his. He responded immediately, moving his hands on her back to stabilise her next to him before kissing her back.

He pulled away after what felt like an eternity, gasping for air.

“Was that straight-forward enough?” she asked, out of breath.

”Yeah, I think I got your message now.” he answered, brushing a strand of hair out of her face.

He spent a moment looking at her in silence- like was memorising every detail- and she was more than content to let him do that forever.

“It’s late, we have work tomorrow. We should call it a night.” he said suddenly, taking a step back and she immediately missed the contact.

“Right.” she whispered, disappointed. The thought of returning back to her stuffy room was repulsive to say the least and the thought that he might go on with his week, pretending like nothing ever happened was unbearable.

“Night.” she mumbled and began walking back to her room when she felt him grab her arm gently.

“I can imagine it’s not simple to just roll over and go to bed after reliving everything…” he trailed off, falling silent for a second.

“If- If you think it would help you rest better, you could sleep with me for tonight.” he continued hesitantly, scanning her face for any kind of reaction.

“I- yes, that would be… better.” she answered, surprised. It would be more than better. If the house wasn't so unbelievably warm she would have been sure this was some kind of lucid dream she was bound to wake up from any second.

Instead she walked with him to his room and entered it properly for the first time. It was slightly bigger than hers and as plain as the rest of the house, but definitely more lived in. He had a double bed in one side of the room while the other had files and work documents spread out on almost all the furniture.

Karasuma slowly sat down on his bed and gestured to her to do the same. She hesitated for a moment but eventually climbed on the bed and laid down. After some consideration, she decided to swallow her pride and actually face him. He was looking at her and their eyes locked for a second, after which she let out an awkward laugh.

“If you’re uncomfortable-” he started but she cut him off immediately.

”I’m not.”

It felt weird at first but she eventually moved closer to him, throwing one arm around him and making herself more comfortable next to him.

“Will you tell me about what you dream about? Someday?” he whispered and she felt his arm on her back gently moving her closer.

“Someday.“ ,she echoed, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

She closed her eyes and began to doze off, half aware of his hand tracing shapes on her arm. They were far from perfect, but they were making progress; and for the first time since god knows when she managed to sleep peacefully.

Chapter 2: II

Notes:

Came back to this eventually. Happy 2026!

After another long, pointless day in the ministry, they drove home together and Irina had volunteered to prepare a basic dinner for the two of them, both too tired to really care. In exchange, Karasuma had washed the dishes, despite her objections, but eventually let her help with the drying to finish the chore faster. She was putting away the last few dishes when he spoke.

“You didn’t get much sleep last night, did you?”

She paused for a moment before turning around to face him.

“I guess,” she mumbled, fidgeting with a strand of hair that fell on her face.

“Want to sleep with me tonight? Get some rest?” he asked, nonchalantly, and she simply nodded and went back to the task at hand.

It was almost a routine they created; She’d never directly ask for such a thing, but she’d also never turn him down when he offered it. He’d somehow always notice when she felt exhausted-sometimes before she, herself, had even realised it-and he’d present his offer as casually as he asked her what she wanted for dinner. Irina tried to hide it at first, but regardless of how she acted, he’d still managed to read right through her. She had eventually questioned him about it, but he hadn’t named any particular trait or behaviour of hers; instead he just smiled and brushed it off, claiming he just ‘noticed things’.

Despite that, she still felt awkward accepting, or even talking about it. She was already reliant on him for the roof over her head and, albeit indirectly, for the job she worked; relying on him for a few hours of quality sleep felt like a different level of vulnerability, though, since they both knew the reason for her restlessness-even if they didn’t address it. She wasn’t really sure how much he knew; he was given a file about her before she started working with him-that much she knew-,but what was on it and how true it was was anyone’s guess. He had never brought it up with her and the question of whether he just didn’t care about her past or was simply waiting for her to open up at her own pace was constantly in the back of her mind.

 

Walking with him to his room, she sat down on what was recently dubbed ‘her’ side of the bed and watched him attempt to organise the seemingly endless piles of files on his office.

“How tired are you?” he turned to her, holding a couple of papers.

“Not much, why?”

“I was planning on finishing something, but if you feel tired…” he explained, quickly adding that it was ‘nothing that can’t wait until tomorrow’ when he remembered she’d stay up as long as he was working.

“No, It’s alright; finish up,” she reassured him and after looking her over, he decided she was being honest and so grabbed what he needed from his office.

 

He sat next to her on the bed, papers spread in front of him and a notebook in hand, reading through dense, long paragraphs and writing a few hasty notes down, while she scrolled on her phone, attempting to find something slightly interesting.

“I’m going out tomorrow night,” she blurted out after a while and she hated how it reminded her of a kid asking for permission.

Not that he’d ever questioned her about her outings, but it felt odd to brake the routine they settled in after so long without acknowledging it. She avoided going out at night, especially after a bad day, as she knew she’d end up having too many drinks at some shitty bar and then seek something equally-if not more-stupid to entertain herself with. The last thing she wanted was to stumble home drunk in the middle of the night and embarrass herself more than she already did sober, or worse-not come home at all and make him worry over some idiotic whim of hers.

“Oh? Anywhere fun?” he mused, snapping her back to reality as he looked up from his notes.

“No- I mean, sort of- Lovro and Olga flew in today so…”

“Well, that’s nice. Are you going out for dinner?”

“No, they just invited me over,” she sighed, and looked back at her phone, switching aimlessly between apps.

He nodded and looked back at his notebook, clicking his pen once, before turning back to her and opening his mouth, as if to say something. Ultimately, he said nothing, continuing to stare at her.

“What?”

“Nothing, I was just wondering something but I don’t know if it’s my place to ask.”

“Go on,” she encouraged him, although she knew it wouldn’t be a pleasant question to answer from his hesitation.

“I just… I’m not sure what your… relationship to them is. I’m just wondering how close you are.”

She stayed silent for a minute, trying to find a suitable answer. In all honesty, even she didn’t know what her relationship to them was. They had saved her from either freezing or starving to death and gave her a place to sleep, although it definitely wasn’t out of the goodness of their heart. They trained her until she essentially became one of the best in her field, but how kind throwing a kid in a pool of blood-surrounded by death- was, was at the very least arguable. She had half-expected them to forget her after she went out on her own but they, surprisingly, kept in contact for more than just work; a basic text for the holidays, maybe even a call for her birthday, if they felt generous that year- they at least had the decency to inquire on whether she was dead or alive, something she couldn’t say for anyone else.

“I mean, they were my mentors, but I guess now you can say we’re… friends? I used to get a lot of my jobs through them,” she explained, but sighed at his silence. “It’s complicated, okay? I don’t know.”

“Well, I assume they know about your…career change. How did they take that?” he asked, putting his work aside.

“They weren’t too happy about it, but they took it well enough. Said what you’d expect- that if I changed my mind, I could always go back, that they could ‘reinstate’ my reputation and whatnot.”

“So, why would seeing them not be fun?”

“I didn’t mean it like that- I’ll just have to answer a thousand questions about my new life, the job,… you,” she mumbled, the last word more quiet than the rest.

“I see,” he answered, mechanically turning back to his work.

 

It was a pattern she began to notice as well. Apart from the fact that Karasuma was hesitant to comment or question on anything he deemed ‘overly-personal’, even at times where she explicitly started the conversation or consented to it, he’d shut down at some point and deflect to something light or casual. She understood why when the topic was personal to him, but it expanded to conversations about them and their relationship, and even sometimes to her own problems.

Work was usually the deflection he chose and after living with him for so long Irina realised why; he didn’t need to think or discuss any of his problems while working. In the same way that she couldn’t think about her parents and the way their bodies looked when she saw them for the last time when she was drowning down a bottle of the strongest drink available, followed by however many cigarettes she could smoke, he also couldn’t worry about whatever it was that he was avoiding after working for twelve hours straight and spending the remaining thinking about next day’s assignments.

He reached out for the papers he moved away ,but she beat him to it, putting her hand over them to stop him.

“I’m going to bed,” she stated and she watched him glance down and then back at her, as if weighing the two, before nodding.

She handed him his work and laid down, watching him get off the bed and putting his things away before eventually closing the light. She felt him lay down next to her and she slowly moved closer, putting an arm around him. He reciprocated the movement, pulling her closer.

“Goodnight,” she mumbled, before kissing him.

“Goodnight,” he echoed, settling next to her.

 

 

She came home later than she intended and after a few more drinks than she had planned. The apartment was dark, except for a slither of light under his door, betraying that he hadn’t gone to bed yet. She walked towards it and paused outside of his room; a part of her wanted to walk in and just crawl into bed next to him, the other reminded her how embarrassing and vulnerable it would be and urged her to just go to her room.

The alcohol managed to subdue the second part, and she eventually knocked once before walking in anyway.

Karasuma was in bed, surprisingly not working, but reading a book, his eyes already on her.

“You’re back,” he stated, more to break the silence than anything.

“Yeah- I thought you’d be asleep by now.”

“I thought I should wait for you to come home first. I wasn’t very tired anyway,” he said lightly.

She noticed he put his book away as soon as he saw her, realised he really did stay up just to wait for her and it made her want to cry.

“Can you give me a minute to change and take my makeup off?- I mean… can I stay here tonight?” she blurted out, looking at the floor.

“Yeah, of course- take your time,” he replied, surprise evident in his tone.

Without another word, she walked out and quickly made her way to her room.

 

 

She returned after a couple of minutes and laid down next to him. He put his arms around her almost automatically and, for once, she didn’t hesitate to kiss him.

“How was it?” he asked, once she had pulled away.

“Fine- Does it matter?” she grumbled, before kissing him again.

“I assume the questioning didn’t go well?” he suggested and smiled when she glared at him.

“What do they not approve of?”

“Why are you bringing this up?” she tried, but then realised that he was, for once, willing to talk about it, and quickly changed her tone, not wanting him to shut her out again.

“They thought the job was a little…” she explained, moving a hand in his hair and playing with a couple of strands.

“Well, you’ve only worked here for a few months, that’ll change eventually.”

“I know- I don't mind.”

He was quiet, tracing circles on her waist but she could almost hear the question in his mind.

“They asked about you. I mean they weren’t too happy you ‘whisked me away’, as Olga put it, but you’re definitely an improvement from every other man I’ve mentioned, so…” she said, trying to keep it light-hearted.

He nodded but stayed silent, thinking, and she mentally cursed herself for somehow saying the wrong thing.

“What did you classify ‘us’ as?” he asked hesitantly, his hand stilling.

“I told them it’s complicated.”

“I sense a pattern in your relationships,” he observed, chuckling, and she couldn’t help but laughing too. Despite that, he seemed almost nervous.

“Look, Irina…” he started, looking away and taking a breath before focusing back on her, “I don’t think it’s complicated- I mean for me, at least. I… like you, and I’d want us to be together, officially, if you’re also interested,” he explained, avoiding her gaze.

She stayed silent for a moment, processing the words, making sure that she didn’t mishear him. She breathed out a chuckle before answering.

“Are you asking me to be your girlfriend?”

“Yes- only if you’re comfortable-“ he started, but she cut him off with a kiss.

“Of course- I’d love to,” she smiled, looking in his brown eyes. It was stupid, but she felt so happy; The fact that he felt nervous over her feelings made her melt, as if there was a possibility that she didn’t love him-especially now, after every little thing he did for her, after showing her time and time again how much he cared about her. It was an all-consuming, almost intoxicating happiness and she didn’t know what else to do than just stare at him.

He stared back at her, as if he was analysing every part of her and committing them to memory.

“Well, that marks your first non-complicated relationship,” he laughed and she snapped back to reality, playfully slapping his shoulder.

“Honestly, you need to learn how to speak up more. I don’t bite- unless you want me to, of course,” she tried, hoping it came out light-hearted enough.

“I know, I just… don’t want to mess anything up or rush you somehow,” he sighed, looking away.

“Well, asking doesn’t hurt.”

“No, I guess it doesn’t,” he agreed and his hand continued its course on her waist.

“Well, in the spirit of communication, would you like to move in to my room permanently? I’d love to have you here every night…” he asked after a moment and he immediately looked up at her, as if he was searching for a sign that the offer somehow made her feel uncomfortable.

Normally, she would have said no. She could hear the little voice in her head reminding her how vulnerable she’d be, how she’d lose the last space she has all to herself, but she promptly ignored it.

“If you want to sleep with me so badly, I guess,” she joked and he suddenly pulled her closer and kissed her.

She fell asleep at some point, between kisses and little, whispered jokes in the dark, with the weight of his arms anchoring her in the present.

 

 

Waking up, she felt the warmth of the sun on her face and a hand gently playing with her hair. The memories of the previous night slowly crept in and she arched into the touch, tightening her arms around him and sighing.

“Good morning,” he whispered, kissing her forehead, while she mumbled a mangled ‘good morning’ back.

“What time is it?” she asked after a moment.

He moved, craning his neck to the side to look at the clock on his bedside table.

“Nine thirty.”

“Isn’t that late for you? You usually get up early.”

“I wanted to wait for you today- it’s Saturday, anyway-we don’t have anything to do.”

She nodded and detached herself from him, sitting up slightly and stretching, while he got up.

“I’ll go make us some breakfast,” he started, but lingered around the door even after she nodded.

“I could help you move your stuff afterwards, if you want to,” he added lightly, but he didn’t meet her gaze.

“Sure, I doubt the wardrobe could fit everything, though,” she smiled, before stealing a quick glance at the closet in the side of the room.

He chuckled and walked out, heading for the kitchen as she slowly got out of bed and walked to the bathroom.

 

The kitchen smelled like eggs and fresh bread when she walked in. He was standing by the stove, watching over a pan. She paused in the kitchen entrance, looking at him, feeling something warm spread inside of her. For the first time, she felt like she belonged there; that she had a place in that kitchen, a place next to him that was uniquely and entirely hers;that it was her house as much as it was his.

She walked behind him and put her arms around his waist, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Can I help with anything?” she asked, kissing his neck.

“Maybe set the table?” he suggested and she nodded, kissing him again before letting go and reaching into a cupboard to grab plates.

 

 

After having breakfast and cleaning up, they made their way to her room and began moving her possessions from one room to the other.

She barely opened the wardrobe and placed a couple of dresses inside before he volunteered to deal with the clothes himself while she moved the rest of her stuff. Her task was, unsurprisingly, much quicker, and, after organising everything in the bathroom and on her bedside table, she laid down and watched him struggle.

“Well…” he sighed after a while, holding up the last few pieces of clothing that he hadn’t managed to stuff in the closet.

She laughed, standing up and inspecting the space before shrugging.

“I guess we can split my clothes in both rooms.”

“I guess. At least it fit most of what you usually wear.”

“Oh? You remember my outfits?” she teased, taking a step closed to him.

His eyes widened for a second and she chuckled.

“Let me guess, you notice things?”

He laughed and closed the distance between them, kissing her.

“Only when it comes to you.”

Notes:

Hope this isn’t too ooc lol :)