“Thanks, Lissa. I’m going to see if she wants to go out for dinner, so I’ll catch up with you in a few days if that’s okay? Thanks for all the help you’re giving her, and me.”
I headed back into the kitchen to hunt for Glory, and saw something that instantly stopped me in my tracks, as the familiar smells reached my nose, and I watched her merrily piling up a stack of pancakes. She looked so fucking happy. She looked like she was in her element cooking, and making something we’d often had as evening snacks, because when you’re young, you don’t have the hangups that say it’s not a proper dinner. Fuck that.
“Tell me some of those are for me,” I practically begged, as I stepped up to the counter while her back was turned. The result was the next pancake slipping from the pan onto the floor, but the glare she shot me? Hot as hell. That was pure Glory.
“Oh damn, that one was yours,” she said, faking apology as she turned back to the cooker, and set the pan down.
“That’s what I deserve. Sweetheart, look at all this!” She’d set out every possible syrup and topping she could find in my cupboards, and I’ll be honest, I’m a bit of a whore when it comes to sweet treats so there were a lot. Golden syrup, maple, maple with date, agave nectar, etc… maybe I overshop sometimes.
“I… I know it’s not a proper-”
I slammed my hands over my ears.
“Can’t hear youuuuu. Not listening to the liessss!” Was I singing the words, fuck yeah, and did it make her laugh? Thank god it did. I think some of it was relief. Clearly that fucker had judged everything she did or liked, but not me. Hell no. I happened to love her decision making, especially if it involved pancakes.
“Help yourself, idiot.” She passed me a warmed plate, and gestured, but I made her dish hers up first, because she did all the damn work.
We stood at the breakfast bar to eat, which was weird when I had a perfectly good dining table, and stools to use at the counter here, but it just felt right for the moment.
“Glory, fucking hell,” I groaned, pouring another dollop of maple syrup, and sprinkling cinnamon on top, “these are amazing! You know the last time I had pancakes for dinner?”
She lifted an eyebrow as she slid a forkful of pancake and chocolate sauce into her mouth.
“I haven’t had them since you last made them. Not anywhere. It just wasn’t the same.”
I watched her finish her mouthful, setting down her knife and fork, but if she thought she was done, she was sorely mistaken. I dished up another onto her plate.
“You haven’t tried them with the ice cream yet,” I said, edging around her to get to the freezer.
“Ice cream?” She watched me lift out tubs of vanilla and bubblegum flavour, eyeing me suspiciously.
“What? It’s a guilty pleasure.” We both added a scoop of each to our latest pancake, which to be honest were getting cold at this point, but duh, ice cream is cold too.
“I’m sorry if you missed out on things because of me,” she said quietly, and I tutted at her.
“Not why I said it. I’m just saying that I’m loving having you back, because this? I’d never do this. It wouldn’t even occur to me, and it fucking should.”
She licked ice cream from her knife, and I forcibly held back the groan that threatened to escape as I watched her tongue move. Jesus, don’t be a perv right now. That’s not what she needs.
I cleared my throat, wishing it was that easy to clean the filthy thoughts from my brain at the same time.
“Uh… what did you think of the ice cream?”
She took another mouthful of just bubblegum ice cream, and smiled with pleasure.
“I can see why you love it. I see a lot of it in my future, and speaking of that,” she set her spoon down, “I know I’m taking a while to get back to who I was, but I’m not giving up. I’m not letting him win.”
“There’s no such thing as too long, Glory. I’m just glad you’re here, especially since you make really good pancakes.” I snagged another, this time adding vanilla ice cream and chocolate sauce.
She set her plate aside, but at least she’d eaten about half the stack of pancakes, so I couldn’t push her to eat more.
“Glory-”
“You also said I could speak to Rocket about art. I think I want to. I’d like to start up again, but I don’t even know where to start. It’s been too long.”
I took a deep breath. Time to admit I’ve been fucking plotting behind her back.
“Actually, there’s something I wanted to show you, in the garage.”
