While you were making dinner, Simon was reading on the couch, occasionally looking at you. He loved how swift your movements were in the kitchen. You just looked so happy when cooking.

For this dish, it required so many steps, but you didn’t mind. Simon mentions something sounds good? You’re adding the ingredients to the grocery list and making it for him after shopping.

You turn around, opening the cabinet that holds the bigger bowls for mixing. Shit, Simon put the bowl you mainly used on the top shelf after he did dishes the other day.

Deciding to be stubborn and not ask for help, you get on your tippy toes, swinging your hand towards the bowl you so desperately need. Simon only looked up when he noticed your soft hums turning into pouty grunts.

Next thing you know, you feel his belt buckle against your back before one hand pushes your back down, causing you to bend over the counter. Simon effortlessly grabs the bowl, placing it on the counter next to your head.

“You’re a stubborn one.” he dryly chuckles, bunching your hair up in one fist as he enjoys this precious view.