"You okay, Lou?" You questioned, making your way down the stairs and seeing Louis slumped on the large sofa.
He turned to see you dressed in your fuzzy dressing-gown, just waking from a nap. "Aye, love. I'm good"
"You sure?" You're asked again curiously now stood bedside him. Louis looked up at you and gave a reassuring smile. "I'm sure."
You sighed, accepting his plead. You rubbed his hand that was placed on the arm rest, he hummed in response.
"Cookin' something?", now walking into the kitchen and re-tying your gown.
"Mmhm, makin' little something for you and me" he called back, remaining in his seat and eyes glued to the television.
You stood at the doorway holding the tray of food that you pulled out of the oven. It was burnt to a crisp, black and practically cremated. "You sure?" You giggled.
Louis' eyes widened and he jumped to his feet in a sudden. "Fuck, fuck!"
"I am so sorry Y/N. I really wanted to make you your favourite..." he whined, running up to you, rubbing your bicep and eyes on the tray.
You chuckled softly, "Lou, it's fine. I told you to leave it to me when cooking."
"I know, i know.. I just wanted to try for once". His facial expression were dropping, expressing his sadness.
"Awe babe," you told him, putting the tray on the table, "it's really okay, you tried and that's all I ask of you. Thank you." You pecked his cheek so he gave you a reassuring weak smile.
"So.. Chinese it is then?" You suggested now lifting the mood. Louis jumped to the sofa as if a child, "phwor, go on then"
You laughed as you returned to the kitchen to clean up Louis' disaster. "'Peaky Blinders, yeah..?" You hear him exclaim, desperate to watch one of his favourite shows. "Phwor, go on then" you mimicked him, that smile never leaving your face.
