Work Text:
The morning was still early in the atelier. The sun was not high enough to warm up the damp soil beneath the cold misty air, releasing an earthy scent. The freshly hanged flowers Tetia foraged the day before wafted a pleasant fragrance throughout the living room as you walked past it.
You realized upon stepping into the fireplace that you were the first one up, assuming everyone else was either still asleep or in the midst of getting ready inside their rooms. You fetch your robe hanging by the dim fire, now dried after yesterday's storm, wrapping and buttoning them on yourself as you walk into the kitchen.
Qifrey's two year old stew was still on the stove, steaming fresh upon the constant repeating spell. As much as you'd like to have a hearty bowl of one for breakfast, you thought, maybe the girls could have something new once in a while?
And so your feet instantly meandered around the kitchen, opening every cabinets—in hopes of not finding crawling insects inside the bottom ones—to see and find out the capacity of Qifrey and Olruggio's humble cooking space.
Thankfully, no spiders or roaches. There was yesterday's bread, tomatoes, some eggs and pans. Although, you still need—
"Busy morning?"
That sweet, comforting lilt in his voice startled you. Well, just a little. You still couldn't have your heart to get used to it. Not after your unplanned confession last week over the warm crackling fireplace.
Qifrey was leaning at the archway when you turned your head, eyelash batting with a curved smile. His arms were crossed under the white robe worn askew, carelessly thrown as if he didn't have time to attach the hanging ornament between them.
You failed fighting your smile, "I thought the girls deserved something freshly made."
Qifrey sniffled a laugh, "Ouch," as he descended upon the small set of steps into the kitchen towards you.
"You're going somewhere?" Your hand reached out to his golden ropes flailing between his robe.
"I might have to. The girls still need supplies for their next test," he suddenly leaned in closer, "or maybe I can have the Watchful Eye to sub me?"
You snort, dodging his eager face trying to sneak in a peck.
"No. And it is best to look at the least properly made when meeting other fellow witches."
You looked up between your lashes at him as you buttoned his robe, knowing his eye never left yours, "Wouldn't want to tarnish the well respected name of your atelier, would you?"
"Our atelier."
You scoffed, "I'm no master."
"Coco might say otherwise—"
"No debate in the morning." You pouted when you were finished fiddling with his robe. You pat down the flaps, continuously avoiding his gaze pretending to tidy up his garment. Not only eye contact was never your forte but, heavens, does Qifrey made it so much harder.
His thumb and index finger lightly pushed your chin up at him, immediately closing the gap between your lips with his. You sighed at his mouth and held on his shoulder for support. He pulled away to breathe and moved his head immediately back to your lips, deepening the kiss. He whined at your fingers tracing the outlines of his collar.
You were far to distracted at his hand right behind your waist, hoisting and pressing you closer to him for you to not realize the tiny 'clink' in the near distance.
Pulling away slowly, you glanced behind his back to see Olruggio already standing by, sipping at his steaming mug of tea.
The sight of you—unsuccessfully—hiding in front of Qifrey averted his attention. Qifrey twisted his neck back at Olruggio, now sipping carefully trying to not burn himself.
"So is breakfast ready?"
Qifrey smiled and nodded like it was just another Tuesday morning, "We'll just have the stew."
"No…" Your irritated scoff caught Olruggio's attention back at you, "No, we'll be having shakshouka."
Olruggio nonchalantly nodded, though you're unsure if the red on his ears was from the steaming mug or… another thing.
Qifrey turned his head back towards you, gently squeezing your forearms, "I'll get the girls ready."
And with that, Qifrey left the kitchen, patting Olruggio before leaving you alone, face to face and a few feet apart with the Watchful Eye. You wondered if it was the sun is getting higher or the embarrassment. Either way, you felt heat creeping up to your face and sweat pouring out of your temple.
"You take your time," he sipped, "just don't make the girls wait."
Holding yourself for support, you put your hands on your hips—also to prevent them accidentally flailing around out of awkwardness.
"I won't.”
He nodded, still with a straight face, before leaving you alone with your pile of tomatoes, eggs, and pans.
You sighed in relief, pondered for a little because of whatever on earth was just happened in a span of a minute. Finally flailing your hands, you tried shaking away the embarrassment and rolled your shoulders to crack your back.
"Is it okay if I help?"
A bubbly voice interrupted. Coco, already stepping down the kitchen, walked towards you with a smile. Sometimes you wonder how long does it take for the girls to have themselves up and ready in the morning. Such case would probably be very brief for Coco.
"Of course, Coco, you can help me with the tomatoes."
=*=