"Here, throw some of that in there too." Camila instructed sweetly, urging a bag full of small chocolate chips your way.
"You have a chocolate problem, babe." You mused, grabbing a handful before sprinkling over the cookie batter you were currently mixing together. It was a sludgy yellow colour, but Camila assured you it was coming together perfectly.
"No, I'm just an expert baker. Gotta have chocolate. Everywhere." She joked, widening her eyes as if she were surrounded by the treat. Her hands were a mess, covered in various powders she'd thrown into the mix. You pushed the bowl her way, pleased with your work but definitely ready to hand it off.
"Thanks." She whispered, leaning over to press her lips to yours. Her hand unconsciously floated to your neck, coating it in whatever was covering her skin.
"Camila!" You yelled, laughing as you wiped at the unformed food that was latching onto your skin.
"That smells terrible!" You giggled, shoving her at her chest playfully. She laughed with you, rubbing more of the mess on her hands onto your cheeks.
"You like that?!" She picked you up, spinning you around whilst dirtying up your clothes. "Camila! Put me down!" You pushed yourself back from her, struggling to catch your breath. She was smiling widely at you, brushing her loose strands of hair back into the bun they were fighting to come out of.
"Okay, cookies." She breathed, her hands coming to her hips.
"Do you have a food fight with everyone you bake with? Because that is incredibly unprofessional." You faked sincerity, rolling your eyes when you felt a piece of chocolate glued to the back of your ear.
"Only the people I like." Camila said over her shoulder, dropping the mix from the bowl and onto a baking tray. Her eyebrows furrowed in concentration as she moulded it into shape, splitting up into separate cookie sizes before turning back to face you.
"Oven time." She beamed, lifting the tray to the space in front of you. She bent over to open the oven, the heat burning your skin. "Shit, that's so hot." You commented, taking a step back. "That's its job. Come on, put them in. Promise the oven won't bite you. But I might." Camila winked, urging the tray even closer to your hands.
"It may not bite me but it already burnt me and I didn't even touch it. And if I burn myself again, you won't be biting anything tonight." You teased, shaking your head softly.
"Are you too scared to put the tray in the oven, baby?" Camila asked, folding her arms across her chest as she smiled brightly at you. You rolled your eyes, copying her position.
"Maybe." You admitted softly. Camila laughed sweetly, sliding on the oven mitts you'd been holding hostage before grabbing the tray.
"I'll protect you." She whispered, sliding the tray inside before slamming the oven shut. You laughed, running your hand through the top of her hair.
"My hero." You mocked, leaning in to kiss her.
