10: Finally, Symmetry

1.8K 52 85
                                    

   CAUTION: Lime.
You've been notified.
Enjoy ☆〜(ゝ。∂)

~One week later~

   I roll over with a groan; my right hand meets something smooth and warm. Opening my eyes, I see that my hand had landed on a creamy white stomach. I leave it there as my gaze travels upwards past a taut, scarred chest and the curve of a hard jawline to the face of the person who lay asleep beside me.

   I take a few moments and simply smile at the mussed white hair, the slightly open mouth revealing razor-sharp teeth, and the thin trail of drool running down onto the pillow beneath his head.

   Realizing that it's actually time to get up, I groan again— louder this time— and begin forcing myself out of bed. Once I'm finally sitting the edge with my feet on the ground, I turn behind me to shake Soul awake.

   He grunts and cracks one eye open, looking at me imploringly, practically begging me to say 'nevermind, go back to sleep'.

    I shake my head before finally standing up. "Come on, Soul— if you get up now, I'll make waffles," I bribe him.

   Suddenly, he's out of bed and dressed— that is, if you can call wearing a classy ensemble of an inside-out shirt, mismatched shoes, and only one sock 'dressed'.

   I chuckle and walk to the dresser with his clothes in it. After taking out a clean pair of socks, I go to the closet to find his left shoe's twin. Handing these to Soul, I help him out of his shirt and put it back on, right side out this time.

   Only once Soul could be deemed presentable did I finally begin to head to the kitchen to start making the waffles for breakfast.

   "Any special requests?" I call over my shoulder.

   "Cinnamon sugar," Soul replies excitedly.

   Entering the kitchen, I get right to mixing the batter; stirring together the flour, water, cinnamon, sugar, and everything else. Once finished with that, I get out the waffle iron and turn it on.

   While I'm waiting for it to heat up, I open the fridge and grab both the chocolate and maple syrup, butter, and milk.

    Soul only joins me in the kitchen once the waffle batter is sizzling away in the iron. As he strides past me, he pecks my cheek.

   "Mornin' sunshine," he greets me. I smile.

    "I see you're finally functioning," I joke, then pause as I open the waffle iron to take out the finished product and add the last of the batter. "And you're feeling alright? You didn't tear any stitches, did you?" I fretted.

   Soul smirks. "You know, you're unexpectedly quite motherly, dear." He says with a chuckle.

   He sobers a bit when he catches my scowl, though, and sighs. "Yes, I'm fine. The stitches are right where they should be." Soul pauses, and looks pointedly at me before continuing. "Not that you would let me do much, anyhow."

I avoid his gaze as I feel my face heat up in a certain blush. "I care about you," I shoot back defensively. "What's so bad about that?" I pull out the last waffle and lay it on the plate with the others. "Besides, you know that I feel guilty about hurting you so badly." I sniffle and swipe a hand across my suddenly wet eyes.

Final SymmetryWhere stories live. Discover now