Work Text:
nanami kento is the type of person to wake up before the sun rises to cook you breakfast.
it's as simple as a few pieces of toast, an omelette, and a yogurt with fruit on the side. it shouldn't take him that long for him to prepare this meal for you, but it does. because while the air is filling with the soft aroma of decaf coffee his feet are planted in front of the stove as he waits for the pan to heat up.
he cooks every single piece of toast on that pan not because your living space is toaster deficient but because he wants to make sure that every inch of the slice is to your liking.
he silently chops away at the veggies that will nourish your omelette. quietly so he doesn't wake you with the heavy cleaves of his knife against the wooden board. he dices away at the vegetables you like, most of which you can stomach, and maybe-- just maybe-- he minces the ones you don't like until they're barely noticeable.
by the time the egg hits the pan day has broken. it shines like gold into your kitchen casting the gentlest light of the day against his sharp features.
when the sun is a little higher he's examining the fruit, picking the best ones to plop into your yogurt. the sweetest ones, the ones whose tones meld nicely together.
your timing is perfect, each dish plated and set on the table. you catch kento leaning over the counter like he's in deep thought until his face brightens like the early morning sky. "Good morning, darling," he says, pulling away from the counter to pull you in by the waist. By then you'd forgotten to ask him what he was thinking so hard about, but don't be surprised if tomorrow a freshly squeezed glass of orange juice is added to the menu. the beverage run through a sieve and cloth till it's smooth.
he doesn't have to wake up as early as he does to make you breakfast, but he wants to. he likes all the small details. he may not express it with words nearly enough as he thinks he should, but this was one of his favorite ways to say I love you.