Harry Styles One Shots

Soup and Salutations: the one ft. [filipino!Y/N]

Summary: Harry helps Y/N cook a meal

Warnings: fluff

Word Count: 754 words

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Harry walked into the kitchen with a pout, searching for Y/N to give him some kisses after a long day at home. The city was in lockdown and both Harry and Y/N have yet to change from their cozy grey sweatpants since they had risen this morning.

It was nearing dinner time and Y/N had to take it upon herself to cook their meal, fully knowing that Harry was craving some tamarind soup for the past couple of days. Now, Y/N wouldn't say that she was a chef, but her skills proved to be just enough that whatever she cooked up in the kitchen always turned up to be something edible.

"Hi lover," Harry greeted, obnoxiously sniffing to get a whiff of fumes from the boiling out. The sound of bubbles filling his ears and along with the aroma made his tummy growl in hunger.

Y/N smiled to herself, kissing his cheek from his position with his chin on her shoulder. She added the pre-cut radish and washed spinach from earlier, adding colour to the hazy hue of the soup.

"Could you pass the salt, please?" Y/N asked, tilting her head to the direction of the cabinet the seasoning was in.

"Sure thing, cutie" Harry walked two paces away, reaching for the box of table salt and giving it to Y/N's outstretched hand, the other one busy was mixing the ingredients together. "Are you making what I think you're making?"

His green eyes were wide in wonder, eyebrows perched high in hopes of finally satisfying his craving. His tongue peeks out between his lips, almost salivating at the thought, waiting for his girlfriend to answer.

Placing the salt down, Y/N nodded, "Yup! Making some pork sinigang for dinner,"

Harry pumped his fists in the air in an exaggerated celebration, whispering a silent 'yes', making Y/N's body quake with incoming laughter from his humour and excitement.

"This will be done in about twenty minutes," Y/N informed, making Harry clap his large hands enthusiastically. She really does not get how a 26-year old man can get this hyped-up about soup. "Do you mind cooking the rice?"

Harry chuckled from his spot on the center table, shoulders moving briefly while his arms crossed in front of his chest, watching Y/N begin to put away the things she didn't need.

"Ahh, how could I forget," His dimples making an appearance, "You eat everything with rice,"

He leaned down to take out the mini rice cooker, rinsing the pot with water. Harry nudged Y/N in a teasing manner while she washed the few dishes cluttered in the sink.

"You can't just eat it by itself," Y/N shook her head in disbelief, casting a glance up to Harry who was currently levelling the rice grains from the measuring cup.

He once made the rice too dry and received about half an hour of the silent treatment from Y/N, at least until the new batch was finished cooking. Needless to say, he spent a good amount of time researching the proper way to cook rice--in an instant rice cooker at least.

-

The rice was cooked and the soup was finished.

Harry had taken initiative to set the table while Y/N used a ladle to scoop a hefty amount of soup and rice in a serving bowl for them to share.

Setting it down, Harry took a sear beside Y/N-a habit that they've quickly developed early in their relationship. Y/N muttered grace quickly, closing her eyes and clasping her hands together.

Harry salivated from the steam evaporating from the pork sinigang, wanting to taste the delicious tangy flavour immediately.

Harry filled his plate with three spoonfuls of rice before passing it to Y/N.

"What's this called again?"

"Sinigang," Y/N answered, passing Harry the bowl of soup in return for his previous actions.

Suddenly, Harry froze in his place, eyelids peeling back as if he just realized something important.

"Hey Y/N," He began through slight giggles.

Y/N rolled her eyes, already knowing that he was about to say something stupidly funny. "Yes, Harry?"

"H-have you ever," His nose twitched in anticipation, finger running through the tip in habitual action, "seen-a-gang before?"

His tightly pressed lips were proof that he was trying to muffle a burst of laughter.

"Yeah, why?" Her pressing tone caused him to stare at her blankly, daring him to continue.

"Oh, I didn't think I would get this far..."

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