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Kohane wakes up to the sound of pots and pans quite literally banging against each other outside the room.
That, and the feeling of dried drool on the corner of her mouth. Blinking away the bleariness in her eyes, Kohane tugs the edge of the blanket down from where it was pressed up to her mouth to see a dark spot of drool staining its cover. Embarrassing, maybe, but at least she’s the only one who’ll ever see it.
Except that’s not really right, because one, these are most definitely not Kohane’s sheets, and two, the bedroom that she is in is pointedly not hers- it’s An’s. If it wasn’t obvious from the posters and polaroid pictures plastered against every wall, it is from how An’s voice curses loudly from the kitchen, presumably towards the pots and pans.
In her morning drowsiness, Kohane can only vaguely remember how she got here, although she doesn’t exactly have any problems with it. Last night she had gone home with An after a live show, and by the time she was planning on taking the bus back, An was holding onto her waist and whining for her not to leave. What she does remember more clearly is An clinging onto her once they were both ready for bed, insistent on cuddling up as close as possible.
Somehow, that leaves her here, bundled up in An’s blankets long past the time she normally wakes up. Shifting under the sheets, Kohane rolls onto her side to see the other side of the bed clearly abandoned, an An-shaped indent left in the pillow.
An’s room feels more comfortable than her own. Compared to the snowfall outside, An’s heavy blanket is basically heaven. The buzz from the kitchen has quieted, leaving Kohane to absorb all the warmth she can from the rare winter sun.
Even so, Kohane can’t say she’s bothered by the way An swings the door open, until the knob hits the wall with a solid sounding thump. “You’re awake!” she says excitedly. For as much as An normally can’t get up in the mornings, her mood is always consistently bright once she manages to pull herself out of bed.
“G’morning,” Kohane mumbles, shuffling up from her position to rest her back against the bedframe.
She yawns, and has the time to rub her eyes exactly once before An is moving towards her, jumping onto the bed with two steps. “I was wondering when you were going to get up,” she whines. “I woke up earlier than you for once, so I tried to make breakfast.”
“Breakfast?” she says. “Ahh… is that what all the noise was from?”
Winking, An gives her a cheeky grin. “Sure was. Wait here, I’ll get it for you.”
Before Kohane can say anything else, An is off the bed and heading for the kitchen again, once again leaving Kohane alone in her daze. Still getting used to the sudden burst of sunlight from the window, she notices An’s clothes right before she leaves- her top and bottom pyjamas are mismatched, her long-sleeved shirt made of pearly silk while her pants are printed with pictures of carp fish.
Looking down at herself, Kohane finds that she has the other half of the outfit, silky pants and carp fish shirt both fitting oversized. Kohane wonders how far An’s fish print clothing collection reaches.
But An is back almost as soon as she had left, and this time with a tray of various kitchenware and utensils in hand. The smell wafts into the room easily, making Kohane want to melt and never leave An’s room even more than before. “Traditional, right?” An says proudly. “I’ve always wanted to try making breakfast in bed. It’s totally romantic.”
She notices the miso soup first as An sets the tray on the bed, and then the bowl of fruit, and she’s close to replying with an enthusiastic Wow! before her eyes land on the large plate of omurice. The egg has already broken on the side, fried rice spilling out like it was a subject of surgery. The ketchup is drawn messily to resemble what could either be a heart or An’s own face. Kohane can’t tell.
Noticing Kohane’s stare, An gives her a thumbs up and a flat expression. “Ignore that part.”
She laughs in response before reaching up to wrap her arms around An’s neck, pulling her down for a peck on the nose. “Thank you for the breakfast, An-chan.”
Pouting, An reaches up to squish her cheek. “Give me a proper kiss,” she says, promptly leaning in to press her lips against Kohane’s.
By now, Kohane should be used to how much An loves giving her affection in all forms, but it seems like she’s still weak to An’s persistence. An smiles against her lips and hugs around her torso, leaning her weight forward so that Kohane is pressed back against the pillows again. They break apart and Kohane presses her forehead against An’s, feeling like she could drown and disappear in the comfort.
“You haven’t brushed your teeth yet, have you?” Kohane says.
An shakes her head. “Nope. Gargled though. Don’t look at me like that, it’s fine if it’s just one day.” She looks back to pick up a slice of apple from the tray, lifting it to press it against Kohane’s mouth. “Here, say ahh~”
“I can feed myself, An-chan,” Kohane replies, although she opens her mouth anyways.
Shamelessly, An laughs. “You’re too nice to me, huh?”
She does let Kohane have the rest on her own, though. Thanking An for the food once more with a silent bow of her head, Kohane picks up a pair of chopsticks and starts with mixing the miso before lifting it up to take a sip. The diced tofu is in all sorts of shapes, but it’s savoury and rich, and Kohane thinks that seeing An so happy at being able to cook for her is worth eating anything.
Kohane is careful to try and preserve the ketchup mess of a heart on the omurice as she cuts into it with a spoon, letting An eat it before taking another bite for herself. For as interesting as it looks, it tastes good. She shouldn’t be surprised- An works at a cafe after all, and she isn’t only making drinks. Still, Kohane wonders if she could help An make a meal one day, so An can tweak the taste while Kohane can perfect the appearance. Halfmindedly, she entertains the idea of opening a cafe with An.
“You know, if we lived together, I could make this for you every day,” An says, mouth half full with egg.
Kohane scrunches her nose and takes another bite. “Omurice every day is- ah, well, An-chan, maybe you should leave the cooking to me sometimes…”
“What, you don’t like my omurice?” An says playfully, pinching Kohane’s arm. Suddenly, she freezes, turning to look at Kohane. “Wait, you’ll move in with me?”
“Once we’re older, right?” Kohane pretends to think, eyes wandering aimlessly around the room before settling on An’s intent stare. “As long as you brush your teeth before kissing me next time.”
An’s eyes immediately shine, and she nods her head vigorously, eyebrows furrowed in seriousness. To Kohane, she looks like an overgrown puppy- she practically has a wagging tail behind her. “Will do,” she says boldly, and after a moment, her face relaxes into a smile. “And I’ll get better at omurice too!”
She reaches out to pat An’s head. “Then it’s a plan,” she replies.
An hugs her, arms above her shoulders so that they’re tangled up in her hair. This time, when An kisses her again, Kohane thinks she’ll forgive it just once.