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The rhythmic crackling of ambers bundled Félix in a protective and warm bubble as he lazily flipped a page of the book propped up on his lap, back resting on soft pillows. The house was silent, for once, and the fireplace’s soft light was enough for him to have a peaceful read without hurting his eyes.
So of course it wouldn’t last long.
The lights switched on with a bang—that switch was still going to break one of these days—and pounding footsteps eagerly approached the low couch chairs by the hearth. Félix could only sigh and put his book aside as a tray was smacked on the center table in front of him.
He lifted his eyes to a beaming Marinette with yellow, pink, and blue powder smeared on her face and clothes that he honestly didn’t want to know anything about. Which was a surprise for his curious nature, but Marinette, somehow, made even him wary of new discoveries.
“What is it now,” he asked cautiously, poking the blue cube and scrunching up his nose when it wiggled.
“Just jelly!” She took a seat across from him, putting an elbow on the table and placing her chin on a palm. “Come on–” She pushed the tray to him. “The taste is divine, you have to try it.”
He arched a brow at her. “Did you taste it first?”
She bit the inside of her cheeks.
Félix grabbed his book and stood up.
“Nooooooo! Félix, pleeeeaaaaaase!” She leaned over the table, pushing the tray aside as she grasped his wrist. “I need an impartial judge! I can’t criticize my own cooking properly.”
“Translating,” Félix said, groaning as he let her pull him back to his sitting position. “You need someone that still has a decent paladar.”
Marinette humphed and crossed her arms. “There’s nothing wrong with my paladar, thank you very much.”
“Love, you swear that crickets are just like crackers.”
“If they’re crispy enough, people can’t even tell the difference! And they have way more nutritional value.”
Félix took in a whimpering breath, eyeing the three blocks of “jelly” in front of him with a frown tugging at his mouth.
“If I take one bite and not like it, the kitchen is off-limits for you for a week.”
Marinette grinned. “Deal.”
Félix narrowed his eyes at her. “The grill and the basement too.” He paused with a thoughtful look. “And the fireplace.”
Her pupils dilated the slightest bit, but the smile remained in place as she nodded in agreement.
Contented, he took the spoon from the trail and, after a deep inhale, took a bite out of the pink cube.
Marinette watched with bated breath as he swallowed the contents, fists pressed on her lap, no doubt to keep them from fidgeting.
“So?” She asked, anticipation and nervousness lacing her voice when he didn’t say anything.
Félix closed his eyes and blew out a sigh. “Dammit.” He picked up the pink jelly’s plate and took another spoonful out of it.
“Yes!” Marinette jumped up, punching the air. “Hah! Take that! You’re not getting away from my amazing cooking that easily.”
“I swear you’re scheming to kill my tastebuds,” Félix muttered in-between bites, a smile playing at his lips.
“I mean–” Marinette came behind him and wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her chin on his shoulder. “–if it made you consider–”
“No. No way in hell I’m eating worms.”