"Hmm, it smells good," Danny states as his hands snake around my waist and his lips find my neck, sending an electric current throughout my body.
"You smell good," I turn around, placing my hands on his shoulders and letting them slide up to his hair as he leans down to kiss me.
"I just took a shower."
"Yeah, I can see that," I laugh, taking my now wet hands from his hair and rubbing them on his chest. "I like it when you're shirtless."
"I tried to find my shirt, but I couldn't for some reason," he replies, tugging at his white shirt which is covering me to the knees. "Do you need any help in here?"
"That would be great. Can you chop some onions?"
"Babe, I can do anything you want me to," he replies with the sweetest smile adorning his face.
"Fuck, Daniel," I say, pulling him in a bit too aggressively for another kiss. "Don't say this kind of stuff to me when I'm busy. It makes me wanna do things I can't at the moment."
"I'm sorry," he laughs, letting go of me to get the onions.
I watch as he carefully cuts them into thin slices the way he knows I like. Even though he's the one responsible for the onions, it's my eyes that get filled with tears. He's always far away, I'm always missing him, this place never feels like home until I can cook dinner for two.
I low the heat, so I won't burn anything, and move to Danny. I hold him from behind, my hands slide around his torso, feeling his skin while my cheek rest on his back. He tries to turn his body to hold me back, but I don't let him.
"No," I whisper. "Keep doing what you're doing, I just need this." I let my tears glue our skins together until he's done with his task.
"What now?" he asks, showing me the sliced onion.
"Put them on the pan, please."
He does as I say, stirring the ingredients a little before coming to me. His big, calloused hands cup my cheeks, his thumbs slide under my eyes, wiping the tears.
"Do you wanna tell me what's wrong?" He asks softly.
"Nothing is wrong, babe. You're here and I'm happy, that's all. These are happy tears, I save the sad ones for when you're away, I'm never sad when you're home."
His lips come to join mine, the same butterflies from our first kiss fly around my stomach, like they're everlasting. His touch is so familiar and yet, it always feels like it's the first time.
"Put on some music," I tell him, heading to the stove. "I'll take it from here."
It doesn't take long for Fleet Foxes to start playing. I smile to myself, I even missed this band, couldn't hear them alone; their music is enough for me to feel his presence and feeling his presence when he's not actually here for me to touch is unbearable.
He comes back and sit on the stool behind the counter, resting his head on his hand as his eyes study my every movement.
"Done," I announce, turning off the stove. "Are you hungry?"
He gets up from the stool and walks to me, taking me by the hand and pressing our bodies together, swaying lightly. "Let it cool, it can wait."
We move together with the music, he holds me tight, I can feel his heart beating hard against my cheek.
"Y/N?" His voice is soft and a bit insecure, I pull away a little, just enough for me to see his face. "I love you." His voice remains soft, but there's no room for doubt this time, he knows what he's saying.
My heart stops only to start back again as hard as ever, hurting my skull with its intensity. If his hands were not around my waist keeping me still, I would probably be on the floor right now. "You don't have to say it back," he voices, after a long time of me staring a him.
A laugh escapes me, I try to stop it, but I'm too nervous. "I'm sorry, you caught me a bit off guard." I guess the sound is infectious, because my laugh get mixed with his, the echo making it seem like even the kitchen is laughing along.
The silence comes back, we steady our breath and he looks at me with a smile. "I love you too," I tell him as firm as he did.
"I know," he replies. "That's why you didn't have to say it back. I felt it when your tears ran down my back and then I realized. I'm never sad when I'm home either."
