Anna never imagined that Daniel would suggest they bake her birthday cake together.
She stood in the middle of the kitchen, staring at him as if he had just proposed sothing impossible.
"Bake?" she repeated, unsure she had heard him correctly.
Daniel leaned casually against the counter, his sleeves rolled up, his expression calm but his eyes gleaming with quiet amusent.
"Yes," he said simply. "We will make your cake."
Anna let out a soft, disbelieving laugh.
"It will not end well," she warned him. Because she had tried before.
Once.
And it had been a disaster so complete that even Mariam had given up trying to salvage it. She had burned the base, oversweetened the cream, and sohow managed to spill flour across nearly every surface of the kitchen. The mory alone made her cringe.
"I nearly destroyed the entire kitchen," she reminded him.
Daniel’s lips twitched. "Then it is good I am here this ti."
Anna narrowed her eyes slightly.
"You sound very confident." she asked.
"I am," he replied.
She did not know if it was his confidence or the quiet warmth in his gaze that made her agree.
Maybe it was both. Because the truth was, this was not about the cake. It was about this mont.
In her past life, she had tried so hard to impress him. She had learned things she did not care about, forced herself into roles that did not belong to her, all in the hope that he would look at her the way he looked at her now.
Back then, cooking had been an obligation. Now, it was a choice.
Now, she did things because she wanted to. And this... this was the first ti they were doing sothing together like this. Not out of expectation. Not out of duty. But because they both wanted to.
That alone made it special.
"Fine," she said at last. "But do not bla when it turns into a disaster."
Daniel smiled. "I will take that risk."
Not long after, the kitchen transford into a battlefield.
Flour dusted the counter, the bowls, and sohow even the floor. Anna stood in front of the mixing bowl, carefully pouring flour while Daniel read the instructions beside her.
"Slowly," he said.
"I am pouring slowly," she protested.
At that exact mont, her hand tilted too far, and a cloud of flour spilled out, puffing into the air like smoke.
Anna froze as her eyes moved up along with them whereas Daniel blinked.
For a second, neither of them moved.
Then he looked at her.
Her nose had a streak of flour across it.
"Pff" He tried to hold it in.
But... failed. A quiet laugh escaped him leaving Anna stared at him in disbelief.
"You are laughing at ?"
"I am not," he said, though his smile betrayed him.
She narrowed her eyes and, without thinking, dipped her fingers into the flour and flicked it toward him.
It landed across his shirt.
"..."
Anna’s breath caught. She had not ant to do that. But when she saw the surprised look on his face, sothing inside her loosened.
"That was an accident," she said quickly, though her smile betrayed her.
Daniel looked down at his shirt, then back at her.
Sothing shifted in his eyes.
Slowly, deliberately, he reached for the flour.
"Daniel, do not you dare." Anna’s eyes widened.
He said nothing. Which was worse.
She stepped back instinctively. "Daniel," she warned.
He took one step forward.
She took another step back. "Daniel—" he flicked flour at her.
She gasped as it landed across her arm.
Daniel blinked, only to hear Anna laughed the very next mont.
It was sudden and uncontrollable, spilling out of her before she could stop it.
Daniel watched her, sothing soft and unguarded in his expression.
She had not laughed like this in front of him before.
Not freely.
Not without holding herself back.
"You started it," he said.
"You laughed first," she argued.
They stood there, facing each other, flour scattered everywhere, the kitchen a complete ss.
And yet neither of them cared.
Anna turned, reaching for another bowl, but her foot stepped on flour that had fallen to the floor.
She slipped.
Her body tilted backward.
Before she could react, Daniel reached for her, his arm wrapping around her waist.
But the sudden shift in balance pulled him forward too.
And the next thing they knew, they both stumbled.
Daniel lost his footing.
Anna grabbed his shirt instinctively.
They fell together.
He landed first, his back hitting the floor with a dull thud, and Anna fell against him monts later.
For a second, neither of them moved.
Her hand was pressed against his chest.
His arm was still around her waist.
Their faces were inches apart.
Anna’s breath caught. She could hear his heartbeat beneath her palm.
Strong. Steady. Real.
She looked into his eyes and saw sothing she had never allowed herself to see before.
Not distance.
Not indifference.
But warmth.
For a mont, the world disappeared.
There was only him.
Only this.
Only them.
And then Daniel laughed.
It was quiet at first, then deeper.
Anna blinked in surprise.
"You are laughing?" she asked.
"You pulled down with you," he said.
She stared at him, then looked around.
Flour covered the floor. The bowls had tipped over. The kitchen was in complete chaos.
She looked back at him.
And she laughed too.
They lay there, surrounded by the ss they had created together, their laughter filling the kitchen.
For once, nothing else mattered.
Not the past.
Not the future.
Just this mont.
Just them.
And for the first ti, Anna realized sothing she had never understood before.
She had never needed to impress him.
She had only needed to be herself.
***
While Anna and Daniel were lost in the warmth of their day, unaware of the storm unfolding elsewhere, Kathrine stepped quietly into the hospital ward where Marcus had been admitted.
The mont she had seen him collapse in the restaurant, his strong fra crumbling into sothing fragile and unrecognizable, panic had taken over her. She had not thought twice before calling for help. The man who had stood so tall, so unshakable just minutes ago, had fallen unconscious before her eyes.
Now, as she stood at the doorway of the ward, her fingers tightened around the handle for a brief mont before she pushed it open.
The room was silent except for the steady beeping of the monitor beside his bed.
Marcus lay there, unmoving.
The sight unsettled her.
Reviews
All reviews (0)