Henry Cavill Imagines

"I have to leave."

YN's POV...

As I take the chicken out of the oven, I hear the front door close followed by Henry's deep voice calling out, "I'm home baby!"

A big smile crawls on my face as I hurriedly place the hot pan on the stove and run out of the kitchen to greet Henry in the entry. He drops his baseball bag onto the floor and opens his arms for me to jump into. I'm acting like I haven't seen him in months, when in reality it's only been 4 hours since we last saw each other. We've been dating for five years yet my heart still flutters the same way it did when we first started dating. We've been living together for two out of the five years and it's been absolutely wonderful. I was speaking to one of his brothers wives the other morning and she accidentally let it slip that Henry went out to look at engagement rings. When I asked her if he bought one she refused to tell me, but the sneaky smile on her face that she tried to hide told me what I wanted to know.

I take the oven mitts off of my hands as Henry holds me up, my legs wrapping around his waist. He kisses my cheek. "Cooking dinner already?" He smiles.

"Yep. Chicken Mozambique with mashed potatoes." I grin proudly, happy that I got to finish one of his favorite meals before he got home from work and baseball practice.

Henry told me that when he was a little boy, his father and older brothers wanted him to play soccer, or "football" in British terminology, but since Henry grew up around Americans, he was more interested in baseball. So ever since the young age of six he's been playing baseball, participating in little league events and getting multiple medals and trophies. He loves the sport, but not enough to ever try and become a professional even though he has the talent to. Henry is history teacher by day, and baseball coach by night.

The two of us actually met in college in our sophomore year of college. We took some of the same courses as we both wanted to become teachers. Where as he's a history teacher, I'm an art teacher. It's hard to just live off of a teacher's salary, so I sell my paintings and other pieces for that extra money, and a little goes a long way.

His face scrunches up and he scoffs. "Ugh, so that's what that smell is?" He asks playfully, his tongue poking out of his mouth in fake disgust before I smack on the back of his head with the oven mitts.

I go along with his playful banter and shimmy my way out of his hold, crossing my arms and walking away. "No sex for you tonight then!" I call over my shoulder as I enter the kitchen.

I hear Henry gasp before running after me. I barely get to laugh before I feel his strong arms wrap around my waist and his face dig into my neck from behind. He interlocks his hands just under my belly and squeezes lightly. "The food smells so yummy, I can't wait until it's in my tummy. I was just trying to be funny, but I just sounded like a dummy."

His rhyme makes me laugh loudly and push him away. Whenever we play fight or have a little argument, he always makes little "poems" to try and make me laugh. 9.99 out of 10 times it works.

"Get out, you smell!" I laugh, but do sort of mean it. Being in a school all day with teenagers and then teaching some of those same teenagers how to play baseball really takes a toll on his usual good smelling body.

He presses a kiss to my lips and then pats my bum, venturing off towards the entryway to pick up his bag. But then I hear the front door open so I assume he's getting the mail. I pour some Mozambique sauce over the chicken and then put some homemade mashed potatoes on our plates. I never make it from the box, especially knowing about all of the bad chemicals companies put in our food. I'd rather be safe then sorry.

I set our food on the table and pour us both a glass of wine. Sitting down, I blow out a long breath as I wait for Henry to come back inside to start eating. Why is he taking so long? "Babe what's going on? I'm hungry!" I call out from the dining room across from the kitchen.