bring me the moon
For raining-down-hearts, who won my 1K giveaway! She asked for Soul teaching Maka to bake, domestic fluff, and tons of cuteness. I hope you enjoy, RDH!
—
Soul came home to what could only be described as Ground Zero.
The kitchen– his kitchen– was an explosion of greasy pots and pans, a snowstorm of flour, egg residue dripping off counters, and an unknown substance clinging to the wall that looked suspiciously like Nickelodeon green gak from his childhood. It was complete and utter chaos and he stood there frozen, mouth hanging open, grocery bags falling to the floor with a soft thump as he surveyed the damage.
His roommate stood by the stove, unperturbed by the mess, face buried in a book as she muttered to herself about grams versus tablespoons. Her shirt– his favorite Nirvana shirt– was covered in flour and her messy pigtails were sporting some very cheery rainbow sprinkles. Soul summoned patience from deep, deep inside to deal with this in a mature manner.
Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the tiniest of scorch marks on his stainless steel pot, the one that Wes had gotten him for the last birthday, the one that came from a set that cost no less than $700.
Fuck patience.
“Back away from the stove, Albarn. Slowly.”
