you and scaramouche are both drama majors and have been at each other's throats vying for the same lead roles since high school. but when you're both cast as each other's love interest in your second year of university you're forced to be civil with...
You woke up with your body molded against Scara's, his legs thrown around your waist and his head on your chest. You'd both been up for most of the night and ended it with making out and arguing over who has to sleep in the wet spot until you both passed out around five in the morning.
When the sun came streaming in through the blinds you felt a hand stroke your cheek and a faint kiss on your forehead. You fought the urge to open your eyes or smile, relishing in the fact that you got to experience what Scara was like when he thought you were asleep.
You only let yourself smile when you hear him leave the bedroom.
"Hi," you greet, sliding into the seat at the kitchen island where Scara is whisking a mixture about an hour later. His apron is tied tightly around his waist and he's still in his pajamas, a look of concentration adorning his face.
"Do you like french toast?" he asks as a greeting, looking up from what he was doing, "Is that my sweater?"
"Yes to both of those things," you answer, pulling the sleeves past your wrists, "Can I keep it?"
"Do what you want, I don't care," he mumbles.
"Can I help?"
"If you want you can mix the dough," he hums, pushing the whisk towards you, "The secret to french toast is how you whisk the eggs. Everyone whisks it too fast but you gotta do it low and slow," he explains, lost in thought as he stares at the eggs.
"Do you do everything low and slow?" you tease, finding pleasure in seeing the tips of his ear then red.
"Shut the fuck up."
"Make me?"
"Shut up!"
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— sorry if ur a good baker i love to bake but it's funny to imagine scara going all gordon ramsay on your cake — lyrics are from nonsense it's on the jptp playlist 🙈
