𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟷𝟸

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"Hey! Can we make these?"

You could hardly make out what Eren had said. His voice was muffled by a shuffling sound – presumably him rummaging through your cupboards like a raccoon.

It had only been a handful of minutes since he announced he was leaving to look for a snack. By the time you found him in your kitchen, he was surrounded by nearly the entire contents of your cabinets that now littered your counters.

Your eyes scanned over the mess. When you huffed through your nose, Eren peeked over his shoulder. He wore a small smile, his eyes practically sparkling as he waited for your response. He looked absolutely oblivious to the situation around him. He was much more interested in the box of brownie mix in his hand.

Only god knows how long that has been in there.

"Go ahead," you said. You used your foot to point out the cabinet near his leg, just under the sink. "Baking stuff's in there."

You turned to walk back to your bedroom. It wasn't even a second later that Eren's voice called out for a second time. "Wait! I don't know what I'm doing."

You sighed again and stopped to face him once more. His expression was sweetened, puppy-like eyes pleading with you. You could only begin to guess how many times that very look has worked for him in the past.

"I thought we could make them together." His voice was coated in honey, and you were positive that had worked for him in the past, too.

Feeling particularly grumpy, you said, "You just want me to make them for you, don't you?"

"That would be awfully nice of you."

You made a 'tsk' sound, and he snickered at the stinging glare you threw his way. "Eren, I told you that if you came over, I was just going to be finishing up some chores. I've been neglecting my laundry for so long."

Without missing a beat (when has he ever missed a beat?), he teasingly said, "But you've been neglecting me for so long."

He neared you in just a few steps. With your hips now between his hands, he gently pinned you against the wooden frame of your doorway. You noticed the glimmer was back in his eyes. It told you that he was way more fun than whatever laundry awaited you in your bedroom. But that was already obvious, wasn't it?

"I've neglected you for all of five minutes, and now it's like a tornado wiped through my kitchen," you said.

Some context might be helpful at this point. For starters, it has been a little over a week – maybe two – since the infamous night spent in Sasha's living room (you still needed to decide on a name for that night). Since then, the time you spent with Eren had grown increasingly.... domestic? That may not be the right word for it, but it fits.

It was strange, in a way, how effortlessly the two of you reverted to your comfortable routine of spending time together. More than that, it was like you had fully swung into a lifestyle of just being with one another. Not in a relationship, just being.

Maybe it was because you were so vulnerable with him at Sasha's. Compared to that night, everything else just felt easy.

Still, you couldn't deny that there was restlessness within your odd relationship. It lurked just below the surface. Behind every spoken word, there was a hint of desperation for more than just typical everyday conversation.

It was that desire that acted as the catalyst for every touch. Every nudge, every caress – they were never careless. You could pretend all you wanted that they were thoughtless, but each was painfully and meticulously deliberate. And somehow, every one of them lasted longer and felt more intimate than the last.

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