She's Cooking....Dear God

I woke up to find my hands free from the fuzzy cuffs. and the body weight of my Gaz missing. I got up from the bed and walked into the kitchen. finding her making breakfast.

The kitchen was a mess, it looked like a five-year-old got their hands on a bag of flour, and thrown it across the kitchen counter. and that's not to mention the state of the dishes that were caked in what I can guess was pancake batter.

"Fucking shit, the cookbooks said stir counter-clockwise!" I heard her growl. She was wearing an apron and her hair was screwed and a mess and she appeared to be struggling.

"Gaz, you need help?"

She froze, and turned to me, frustration lining her face, "GREAT! So much for the surprise!"

Oops, she looks pretty upset, maybe I should lighten the mood.

I walked with to her and gave her a hug, she flinched in my grasp, but seemed to melt into it. "Hey, thanks for making breakfast."

She looked up at me opening one eye, blushing a bit, mumbling something on the lines of your welcome

"You did enough by yourself. how about we cook together?"

She opened both eyes this time blushing a deeper hue, "F-Fine. just don't touch the pancakes, their mine."

I chuckled as I began creaking the eggs, Turning to her I began to speak, "You were amazing last night."

She turned away from me her face now beet red, "You...uh were great too...." she said as her hand went to her belly.

I grinned, I wonder if compliments cause her stomach to act up. could be a nice time to test that theory out.