You loved when Steve baked. Maybe it was because his tongue was slightly sticking out with how concentrated he was. Regardless, you couldn't help just looking at him, not when Steve was bending over the balcony of his kitchen, carefully cutting out the pie dough to make some kind of pie art that he insisted to keep as a surprise from you.

Before he could have caught you staring, you turned your attention back to your book. As the minutes passed by you got immersed in the story, not hearing Steve closing the oven, or even his steps to your direction, surprising you as he laid between your legs on the couch. You raised the book to the height of your forehead, making a little book cabin, and Steve got even closer as he passed under it.

“Hi” He said as your noses touched.