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"Negan, I can make dinner. I'm fine. A little weak, but fine."
"No, baby, you just rest and I'll do the cooking."
Lucille huffed at his husband stubbornness. Ever since the diagnosis, he had been disturbingly careful and attentive. Tiptoeing around her every minute of the day, as he was afraid that she was going to break like glass if he didn't handle her with kid gloves.
"Come on, baby, go back to bed and get some sleep." Negan urged rubbing circles on her lower back.
"Fine." Lucille pouted at him in defeat. "Still, if you need any help..."
"I can manage, baby. But if I burn the fucking kitchen down, you'll be the first to know." Negan replied with a playful smirk at the corner of his lips.
Lucille rolled her eyes at the remark and gave her husband a kiss on the temple before going upstairs. She changed into a t-shirt and sweatpants and lied down. After tossing and turning in bed for a good half an hour, she let out a frustrated sigh. Chemotherapy has messed up her sleep cycle completely.
The sweet scent of spices from the kitchen made her sit up on her elbows. It was surprising how strong she could feel it. Her sense of smell and taste has been different, fading mostly or occasionally disappearing even since she started receiving treatment. But the rich aroma of cinnamon, cloves, ginger, and nutmeg was so heavy that it made her mouth water.
Gingerbread.
It has always been her favorite cookie. Closing her eyes she could see the little figures – Christmas trees, gingerbread men, stars, snowflakes, candy canes – fresh out of the oven, waiting to be decorated with icing. Her stomach let out a loud growl, making her eyes snap open and a wide smile to appear on her lips. A plan was forming in her head and she was going to set it in motion right away.
She carefully got out of bed and tiptoed down the stairs. Her husband was standing with his back to the kitchen door wearing a red apron. He was stirring something on the stove while whistling a merry little tune under his breath to the song playing on the radio. The cookies were laid out on a cooling rack on the kitchen counter. Keeping her eyes on the back of his husband, Lucille carefully held out her hand and took a gingerbread Rudolph from the rack. It was still warm and its surface had not hardened yet. Slowly backing out of the kitchen before Negan could see her she made her way back up the stairs and jumped back into bed. She strained her ears for any noise but couldn't hear anything.
After a few moments, she allowed herself to lie back on the pillows and indulge in the simple pleasure of the cookie, taking a small bite out of the reindeer's antler to make it last longer. It immediately melted in her mouth and tasted just like she had imagined earlier, sweet like honey. After devouring her prize happily she licked her fingers clean and once again listened for any sound or movement coming from downstairs but heard nothing.
