ι ѕєє α вα∂ мσση αяιѕιη' ♡

[∂яινє му ωσℓƒ ωιℓ∂ ♥]

He took her hand blindly, sliding his fingers with hers. He looked up at her with a frown. "All this time?"

[нαℓƒ~мσση]

"You're not very discreet," Nikita squeezed his hand and kissed the back of it, "So, yes, all this time."

[∂яινє му ωσℓƒ ωιℓ∂ ♥]

He blushed a deeper shade of red, turning his head back down. "I must look like an idiot." He muttered, sniffling a bit. He rubbed at his nose harshly with the back of his hand, clenching his jaw. "They all told me it was useless. But..." He shrugged. "Not really something I can control without wanting to hurt something."

[нαℓƒ~мσση]

Nikita placed her finger under his chin and tilted his head up, "Why would it be useless?"

[∂яινє му ωσℓƒ ωιℓ∂ ♥]

He looked at her like what she had said was completely oblivious. "Because he's twenty-seven and I'm eighteen? Not to mention the fact that we come from two completely different sections of our world. He goes out and makes trophies of beast heads. I... bury my nose in a dusty book."

[нαℓƒ~мσση]

She gently stroked his cheek, "So you're different. There's no rule about dating someone who is exactly like you."

[∂яινє му ωσℓƒ ωιℓ∂ ♥]

"No, there isn't..." He slumped on the counter with a frown. "I just don't feel like I'm going to be enough, hypothetically speaking if it even happened. He's more mature than I am. And I'm afraid of things that he maybe isn't. I can't get... close to people. I don't know how, I freeze up and then push away." He sighed and dipped his finger in the bowl of chocolate mix, licking it sadly. He screwed his nose up and coughed, a bit of powder bursting out. "I found a clump."

[нαℓƒ~мσση]

Nikita smiled and ruffled his hair, "You'll learn, Nicky. It's all about learning and getting comfortable."

[∂яινє му ωσℓƒ ωιℓ∂ ♥]

He bit his lip, resting his thumb tip between his teeth. "I don't think I will." He smiled at her. "But thank you." He swiped some chocolate from the bowl and poked her between the eyes with it, snickering. It had gotten too serious, but it seemed he had more questions than answers now. If Nikita was so alright with it, why did he still feel like there was a weight in his chest?

[нαℓƒ~мσση]

Nikita made a face, "Hey, not nice.~"

[∂яινє му ωσℓƒ ωιℓ∂ ♥]

He stuck his tongue out at her playfully and stood, walking around the counter and pouring the completed mix into the sprayed pan. Pushing it into the preheated oven, he sighed and settled against the front of it, eyes closing.

[нαℓƒ~мσση]

"You probably shouldn't do that," Nikita commented.

[∂яινє му ωσℓƒ ωιℓ∂ ♥]

He blinked at her. "Do what?" He looked behind himself. "I'm not on any of the stove dials. And the oven is closed."

[нαℓƒ~мσση]

"Being that close to it while it's on is still bad for you," She scolded lightly.

[∂яινє му ωσℓƒ ωιℓ∂ ♥]

He frowned at her. "How?"

[нαℓƒ~мσση]

"It just is! Don't argue with me, mister," Nikita laughed.

[∂яινє му ωσℓƒ ωιℓ∂ ♥]

He huffed and smirked, pushing off from the oven with a sigh. "Well now what? The brownies are in... What do we do?"

[нαℓƒ~мσση]

"I can go put the movie in," Nikita offered.

[∂яινє му ωσℓƒ ωιℓ∂ ♥]

"Good idea! I'll make some popcorn or something." He smiled tiredly.

[нαℓƒ~мσση]

Nikita trotted back to the bedroom, humming happily.

While she was gone, Alexsander shuffled into the kitchen, scratching his chest.