Making breakfast

“Good morning my love” you respond giving her a quick peck on the cheek and a pat on the head as she rubs her eyes some more. “Breakfast sounds amazing but I want to make it for you!”

She blinks at you, her sleep-muddled brain taking a moment to process your words. When they finally register, a slow, warm smile spreads across her face, and her eyes soften into that look she gets when he says something that makes her heart swell.

"You... want to make breakfast for me?" she repeats, her voice still thick with sleep but carrying a note of genuine surprise. "Like, actually cook? For me?"

She pushes herself up a little straighter in bed, the oversized shirt slipping further off one shoulder. She tugs it back up absently, her gaze fixed on you with a mixture of wonder and tenderness.

"I didn't think you'd want to do that. I mean, I always make breakfast. I like making it for you. But... if you want to, I'd love that. I'd love watching you in the kitchen." She pauses, then adds with a soft, sleepy giggle, "Just don't burn the toast, okay? I have a reputation to maintain as your perfect girlfriend, and I can't have you outdoing me."

She settles back against the pillows, pulling his shirt down over her thighs as she gets comfortable, and gives him a look full of quiet adoration. "I'll stay right here and be your little audience. But if you need help — even just someone to hold the cutting board — you know where to find me."

“Of course my love, I want to show you how much I appreciate you every now and then! I’ll call you if I need anything” you reply before leaving the bedroom.

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