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“Tell me again why I agreed to make soup with you,” Adrien groaned, as he wiped his tears on his sleeve. Who could have guessed that dicing onions would be such a taxing activity?
Marinette just smiled serenely as she stirred the pot. As far as he could see, because his vision was blurry.
“You asked for it, kitty,” she reminded him.
Yes, he had asked her to let him help in the kitchen. But he’d imagined it would be to bake something. Something sweet preferably so he could lick the bowl clean or eat from the dough. Secretly, of course. And then eat his weight in sweets knowing that he’d contributed something to it.
Not this - prepping vegetables and crying in the middle of the kitchen.
“This is ready,” he said, moving the cutting board as far away from him as he could.
“Thanks,” Marinette mumbled, adding the onions to the boiling mix. “Can you hand me the black pepper, please?”
Adrien went to the spice rack and looked at the containers, thankful for Sabine’s prudence to label them. When he picked up the one with the appropriate label on it he looked at it suspiciously.
“Is black pepper a greyish brown usually?” He asked.
“Yes, it looks more black when the grains are whole though,” Marinette explained.
He still decided to test it and uncapped it, taking a deep breath. And this was obviously a mistake, because he doubled over as he sneezed.
“Adrien, you don’t sniff black pepper like that,” Marinette cried out, realising what had happened.
“How… Achoo! Was I.. Achoo! Supposed to know?”
She laughed! She outright laughed at his misery.
“It’s not funny,” he sniffed, reaching for a tissue.
“You’re funny when you sneeze, sorry,” she explained, her lips still twitching, as she added the pepper to the soup.
“I’m glad that you’re entertained. I must be a whole spectacle when we get attacked by pigeons in the park,” he grumbled.
“Oh, kitty, don’t go pouty on me. I’m sorry. I wouldn’t make fun of your allergy. But sniffing black pepper? You had it coming,” she grinned.
“So if I sneeze because I’m allergic, would I get kisses next time?” He looked at her hopefully.
“You can get kisses now as well,” she said, moving closer to him and cupping his cheeks. “My poor baby deserves all the kisses for helping me out,” she cooed before rising on her tiptoes to kiss him.
He didn’t like being babied that much in general, but in this case he didn’t mind. Especially since he got kisses and totally deserved them.
“Better?” She asked after that, her eyes dancing with mirth.
“Yes,” he sighed.
“Good, go set the table then,” she pointed behind him then. He trudged across the room, trying not to pout. No sweets in sight. But at least cutlery and dishes couldn’t make him cry or sneeze.
“You’ll love the dessert,” Marinette called out after him and he instantly perked up. Maybe not all was lost.