Witness Protection ✔

Bake-Off

Living with Darius like this felt oddly domestic. She'd watch him work out during the mornings and he would watch her cook in the evenings. They slowly fell into a familiar rhythm in which their entire day revolved around the other.

They were also trying to get to know each other. Nathalia was a whole lot more willing to give things away about herself than Darius, but she was fine with that.

Right now, she was explaining to him what she was doing in the garden and what her future plans for it were. She knew he didn't care much about plants, but the fact that he tried was more than enough for her.

She sat knee-deep in the wet mud as she pulled some weeds while Darius chose to crouch beside her with his hands in his pockets. He wasn't quite as willing to get his hands and jeans as dirty as hers.

"And this isn't really a weed, but it could possibly kill the other plants so I'll have to remove these as well. The roots are invasive and will take all the nutrients away from my plants and they won't have enough to grow anymore, causing them to die if nothing gets done."

He nodded as he watched her uproot another one. He usually didn't talk a whole lot, but she knew he was listening. Every time she looked back at him his eyes met hers and she'd have to look away again to hide her blush.

Suddenly, the trees started rustling and when she looked up she felt the first few raindrops hit her face.

It wasn't a cold rain. It was the soft rain of spring that made everything smell like grass and leaves. She loved it.

"Let's get inside," Darius said as he stood up and held out his hand.

"Why, you aren't afraid of a little rain, are you?" she teased him as she grabbed his hand, after wiping it on her jeans, and let him pull her up.

"Nah, I'm just worried you'll get sick and I'll have to cook the whole week. I can only make grilled cheese sandwiches and those get old fast and frankly aren't nutritious enough for a sick person," he threw back.

"And what makes you think I'll be one only one getting sick? Maybe it's me who's going to have to take care of your sick ass," she replied as they entered the house again and took off their shoes.

He didn't reply to that but just smirked at her before going into the kitchen. She went after him but didn't take a seat at the kitchen table like he did. Instead, she moved toward the cabinets to gather some ingredients.

He followed her with his eyes for a while before asking, "What are you doing?"

"I'm making the cinnamon rolls for Trudy's brunch tomorrow so I won't have to get up early to make them," she replied as she grabbed a large bowl from under the sink.

"She said we didn't have to bring anything and didn't you want to watch that one show? I forgot the name. I say we ditch the cinnamon rolls and park our asses on the couch for the rest of the day."

"No, I already got all the ingredients and I really want to bring something. You wanted to watch it as well, right? I won't mind if you want to watch it now, I'll catch up later."

He didn't reply but just sighed and sat back in the chair, not making any effort to get up at all.

"Or, you could help me?" she suggested after realizing he wasn't going anywhere.

Somehow the blank look he gave her was even more devoid of emotion than his regular blank looks, which said a lot.

"I'm serious, it's not that hard."

"Now you're just underestimating me," he stated with his eyes to the ceiling.

"Well, how about this? You help me make cinnamon rolls, and if it turns out to be a complete disaster I'll never ask you to cook anything ever again."