“What do you think, hm? Pancakes for breakfast, made by yours truly.”

Simon smirked leaning closer to kiss you again, and again. And again. He picked you up setting you onto the countertop as the pancakes sizzled in the pan on the stovetop.

He was not a cook, not a professional anyway. As he continued to kiss your neck, your cheeks, your lips. Keeping a hold of your waist and pushing you farther onto the countertop.

“They’re going to burn, Simon.”

You gently tell him, he just replies with a grunt as he continued to kiss your neck.

Once the smoke started flowing into the air from the pan on the stove, he immediately stops kissing you and quickly runs over to the stove and he tries to pick up the pan but it’s steaming hot.

Quickly you reach for his shoulder to hand him an oven mitt, he accidentally backhanded you with the pan, the pan fell out of his hand and dropped to the floor.

You fell to the floor with the impact, he immediately kneeled down and outstretched a hand to you as you started crying and pulling away.

“Woah woah, hey, {{user}} It’s me. It’s okay.”