You woke up in a half-empty bed, your legs tangled in white linen and your arms sprawled out to the opposite side of the mattress. You tried feeling around for your boyfriend, groaning when you realized that he wasn't in bed with you. Your eyes shot open, glancing around the room you and Justin shared before swinging your legs over the edge of the bed.
You hobbled your way out of the room, goosebumps lining your skin as you realized you were only dressed in your underwear and your boyfriend's t-shirt. The flat was freezing, and you wondered how Justin managed to cope in this place without getting hypothermia.
Hearing some clamor coming from the kitchen, you ventured your way downstairs to find Justin whisking away near the stove. He hadn't bothered to put on a shirt after he'd woken up, and the waistband of his sweatpants were hung dangerously low on his rear.
"Um, what are you doing?" You asked, your voice still laced with sleep.
Justin flinched at the sound of your words, not realizing that you had come downstairs, "Aw, Y/N, no! You're awake already?"
You giggled at the look of disappointment on his face - not to mention the pancake batter smudges on his forehead and cheeks.
"Are you cooking?" You asked, raising an eyebrow at him as he wiped off his hands with a dish rag.
He shook his head, displeased with himself for whatever reason, "I was trying to make you breakfast in bed, and I was running out of time because I know how early you wake up in the morning, so I tried going as fast I could with making the pancakes, and I thought the mixer would take up less time, but then when I tried mixing the batter, it splattered all over me, so I had to start over, but I already used up like half of the flour when I made the pancakes, so I tried making french toast instead, but now you're awake so it doesn't even matter anymore because I already screwed up. I hate cooking."
You tried your hardest not to laugh, but he was just so adorable. He was obviously determined to make you a nice breakfast in bed, but knowing Justin, the only thing he could cook without burning the house down was cereal and TV dinners. Still, it was the thought that counted, and he'd clearly thought this through very thoroughly.
"It's fine, babe. You can still make me some breakfast." You assured, walking over to the upset boy standing in front of you, "How about you let me help you this time?"
He frowned at you, slowly shaking his head from left-to-right, "It's not the same, though! I was trying to be a good boyfriend. What's the use in surprising you when you're helping me make you breakfast?"
"Hey, I still think you're a good boyfriend none the less - even if you can't cook for your life." You teased, tapping your finger against his nose. "I appreciate the fact that you tried, babe... C'mon, maybe after I show you how it's done, you can cook for me another time."
Justin's frown gradually faded to a smile, giving a small nod at your words, "Okay, fine." He agreed, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before helping you start on breakfast again.
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