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Lena woke up to the smell of freshly baked goods wafting through her open bedroom door. With her eyes still closed, she inhaled deeply and sighed happily. She cracked open an eye and felt around the bed, grumbling when her hands met cold sheets as she realised Amélie was missing from her side.
With a big yawn and a stretch, Lena kicked off the sheets and heaved herself from the warm bed. She stumbled through the bedroom door and followed the scent down the stairs.
The sound of pots clanging and the cutlery drawer closing in the kitchen caught her attention, and she peeked around the corner.
Standing there in front of the stove wearing Lena’s pink ‘kiss the cook’ apron was Amélie, turning the dials on the oven’s temperature. Her dark hair was up in a messy bun and she wore nothing but a pair of Lena’s boxers and an orange baggy shirt underneath the apron. Violin music lightly played from the small speakers on the kitchen island as she worked, grabbing various items from the cupboards.
Lena crept up behind her and stopped as her eyes landed on the bag of flour still out on the worktop. A slow smile lifted her lips and she placed her hand in the bag quietly before slapping Amélie right on the arse cheek.
Amélie yelped and whirled around, grabbing Lena’s wrist in a tight grip.
“Merde , Lena! You surprised me,” her eyes narrowed as she saw flour dust falling from Lena’s palm. She let go of Lena’s wrist and craned her neck to look down at where she’d been slapped, seeing a big white patch of a flour hand print.
“Lena!”
“Accident! Complete accident!” Lena defended, quickly wiping her dusty hand on her leg.
Amélie raised an eyebrow. “You want me to believe that your hand fell into the bag of flour before it ended up on me?”
“... Yes.”
Amélie hummed, crossing her arms over her chest and slowly sauntering forward. “And I suppose you also fell into me, with no other purchase other than my behind to grab?”
“I really tried to grab something else, honest!” Lena claimed innocently, backing up a little.
She balked when her back hit the kitchen island, and glanced up at Amélie who towered over her. Lena gulped when strong arms trapped her against the counter.
“All this leverage,” Amélie gestured around her, tapping her nails on the marble top, “and you couldn’t grab it.”
“Well you see, love, I-” her words cut short as lips molded to her own. She sunk happily into the kiss, clutching onto Amélie's collar.
Amélie broke away ever so slightly, skimming her lips over Lena's. “You aren't a very good liar, chérie.” she whispered.
Lena grumbled as she stood on her toes to reach Amélie’s lips. “Fineee, you got me. Can’t a girl appreciate her girlfriend’s arse?”
Amélie raised an eyebrow, standing at full height. “By slapping flour-”
“Appreciatively!”
She rolled her eyes but smiled down at Lena. “Foolish idiot.”
“... Hey.” Lena pouted. “You still love this idiot,” she retorted.
Amélie sighed, leaning forward to envelope Lena in her arms and kiss the top of her head.
“Always.”