Sweet Summer Sunsets- A Robert Irwin FanFic

Robert

Ashley and I got started on making the cookies. We started with me listing off the ingredients and what measurements of each while she went around the kitchen gathering the measuring cups and the ingredients, setting them in an organised way on the counter.

"So, as your best friend, I know you love your organisation. So, how are you organising these?" I asked, slightly teasing her. I looked at her just in time to see a slight smile come across her face as she brought back the sugar and flour, as well as a 1-cup measuring cup.

"Well these are the ones we're going to need the most of, and their respective measuring cups. And these we won't need as much of and also the measuring spoons. And these two smaller piles are specific to the macadamia nut and the gingerbread. Like we wouldn't use the white chocolate chips for the gingerbread, so it goes in this pile," she explained.

I loved the way she was so organised. Sure, I could keep things organised in my room or my camera bag or even during a croc show. I know I'm not the best at putting things away, and I've been known to leave camera equipment scattered across my desk or painting supplies, as well as just shoving clothes in a drawer or haphazardly into my closet.

But she was more than just organised, she had a spot for everything and an unsaid plan in her head. She moved fluidly, knowing exactly what she would do and when without much hesitation between things. She always had things in her room so clean and organised, everything had its spot where it fits perfectly, like some kind of mega game of Tetris. My organisation abilities stopped at putting things where they went.

I've been there a lot on days when she'd be deep cleaning her room, or slightly stressed out cause she had things scattered across her desk for the things she was currently working on. She'd apologise profusely and then organise it into piles that only she knew what they contained, and which things were for what project or to be used in what order. It was like her mind was this complex system to anyone on the outside looking in, but it was common knowledge to her.

We got the cookies made, and the last tray was in the oven, while the rest of them and the gingerbread cookies were cooling on racks Ashley set up on the kitchen table. I was scraping the sides of the mixing bowl with a spoon while Ashley was finishing up cleaning the small mess we had made, which just consisted of some spilt flour here, spilt sugar there, and whatnot. She also loaded the dirty dishes in the dishwasher.

"Okay, Robert, I'm gonna have to confiscate that bowl and spoon," she joked, holding out her hands and waiting for me to hand them to her. "Plus, I think you polished them enough." She giggled.

"But there's still some look!" I said, showing her the tiny bit of cookie dough on the bottom of the bowl while holding it close to me. I smirked at her, and a slight grin spread across her fast.

"Come on, don't be cheeky, Tarzan," she joked.

"Okay, okay," I said, scooping up the last bit up and handing her the bowl. She put one hand on her hip, and I knew she was waiting for me to hand the spoon over as well. I took my time, taking small nibbles of the cookie dough to make her laugh.

"Are you trying to prove something, Croc Boy?"

"I think the fact that you called me "Croc Boy" proves enough, darling," I said, winking at her and handing over the spoon. A slight blush spread across her cheeks. I smirked again. "You weren't expecting that, were you?"

"No," she said, looking away while she put the dishes in the sink, "I was not expecting that. But you do have a good point- just being called "Croc Boy" proves plenty. "

She looked over at glanced at the timer on the oven, checking to see how much time was left on that batch of cookies before pulling out her phone. I watched her as she scrolled through what was probably Pinterest. Her hair was up in a messy bun, and even though she was basically wearing pyjamas, she still looked beautiful.