#reposted bcoz the og link isn't working

[nkogneatho]

BURNT PANCAKES

The sun felt extra bright, even the curtains couldn't contain the rays. It bounced off Satoru's white hair as well as his oceanic eyes with cerulean shades that felt like it had little pearls in it.

"Had a good sleep, babe?" He asked, handing you the cup of coffee with the extra cream you like.

"Uh huh," you nodded, taking the cup in your hand, looking down at the crooked heart made on top of the cream with roasted coffee powder. You look back at him giggling at his poor art skills.

"What? If I was born in the 19th century, the world wouldn't have a Picasso. It would have Gojo Satoru,"

"Sure. But then we'd never meet," your fingers graze against the ceramic handle.

"Another reason to be borned in 1800s," you lightly slap his chest. Your mouth pouts, and you peer away. He is always like this. And you'd think that he'll immediately sugar talk you, yet he doesn't. He waits for you to get annoyed. He flips the pancakes, trying so hard not to chuckle. You walk away from the kitchen—or at least you try to, before he grabs you by your wrist.

"Where are you going, lil' one?"

"Well since you probably don't want me in your life, I shouldn't disturb you," you know it was an innocent joke, although, it did hurt a little. It's his personality to be an ass. But do you know what's his even greater trait? He knows when to sweep your feet off the ground. He knows when to hold your body so close that there is no space left for even air to pass from. He knows how to kiss you til' you go breathless, and your mind becomes hazy. All that insecurity is forgotten when his tongue pushes past your lips.

You pull away to catch a breath. "Your pancakes are burning, Picasso," you shoot a look towards the smoke coming. Satoru turns off the knob without looking back, his eyes locked on you.

"We have our whole lives to make pancakes. I want you more than anything now."