7My Sweetest One
Special A belongs to Maki Minami.
The soft breeze caused the curtains to ripple slightly, warm daylight seeped through the glass windows, reflecting onto several things in the room.
It was a peaceful morning.
That was until the alarm clock made an ear-splitting blare.
Megumi huffed and tucked her ears in the pillows. The alarm clock resounded on all corners, unceasing.
She closed her eyes shut, willed her body to face the opposite side and snuggled beneath the covers.
Five seconds passed and she heard metal clattering on the floor. The alarm went off.
Her eyes fluttered open and saw pieces of glass and metal scattered on the floor. A loud sigh escaped her lips, her eyes trailing the withdrawing arm as it settles back on her waist. That was the fifth alarm clock her husband broke that week.
Her half-lidded eyes fell on his sleeping face. His eyelids retracted slightly, startling her. He stared back at her, an eyebrow rose when she let out a shocked squeak. He snorts softly and shifts on his position, his back now facing her.
With the shake of her head, she pressed her head back on the soft pillows and drew lazy circles on her husband's back.
"…hm, what should we write…" she murmured under her breath, dragging her fingers on his bare skin.
"Number three," he guessed, causing her to prop an elbow and hover at him.
"Are you awake?" She whispered softly, eyes curiously searching his face. He groaned, causing her to giggle.
Megumi flopped back on her previous position and drew another number on his back. He hissed, making her jerk her hand back.
"You'll feel sorry for treating me like a kid," he muttered, eyes still closed. His arctic tone froze the words in her throat.
"Okay, I guess it's time to get up," she announced, stretching her arms. She swung her feet out of bed but an arm snatched her waist and dragged her back to her previous position.
"Y-Yahiro…" She forced out, her eyes adjusting to the warm brightness directed at her.
She heard an incoherent grumble, his face buried on her back.
"Wh-what is it?" Megumi asked, shifting her way out of his grasp. She heard him grumble again and felt his lips press on her bare shoulder.
She squirmed away and a small smile tugged his lips. He does not feel the need to check, he knows she's blushing. Megumi sighed as the touch of his lips against her skin lulled her back to sleep.
His eyes slowly opened, revealing his entrancing eyes which always mesmerized her.
"I said, don't use your voice…" he mumbled, his fingers combed back her hair as they messily fell across him, tickling his face.
"It's either you'll get up on your own or I'll drag you out of bed," she warned, trying to sound threatening, which, of course, was never her talent.
Her face immediately went crimson when a knowing smirk appeared on his face. It took a lot of courage for someone like Megumi Yamamoto, er, Saiga to say something like that. He should at least show some sympathy.
"I-I'm serious!" she squeaked out, her clammy hands grabbed a fistful of her clothes' hem.
He propped an elbow, his eyes not leaving hers.
"I choose the latter," His raspy tone and seductive smile sent small electric shocks to her body. Megumi tilts her head to the side, confusion spread across her pouting face.
"Fifteen minutes?" He winks.
Before Megumi could wrap her brain on what he's suggesting, he towered over her small frame, making her shriek. His hands found their way on her small waist, pulling her close.
She whimpered, feeling his breath against her lips. She firmly closed her eyes and stopped her breath. He smirked then buried his face on her shoulder and leaned over to her ear.
"Whatever," he whispered then pulled away.
Megumi was left speechless. After having a good look at her befuddled expression, Yahiro erupted to fits of laughter.
"You despicable…!" she mopes, burying her face on the pillows.
He mockingly grinned and headed to the bathroom. Megumi puffed her cheeks out and stomped her way to the kitchen.
Kitchen?
Yahiro's eyes dilated as panic shot through him.
"Don't lay your hands on any of the kitchen utensils, Megumi!" He yelled, hissing under his breath as his hands made quick work on tying his bathrobe.
"Megumi!" He called, gritting his teeth at her lack of response. This little…! His wife couldn't cook a decent dish to save her life.
Yahiro made athletic strides to the kitchen, a scowl marring his features.
As he reached the kitchen, he saw his wife busying herself, mincing some onions and other ingredients.
He inhaled sharply and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Seriously, what do you think you're doing?" He asked, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulled her away from the stove. Megumi gasped in surprise.
"I-I am just fixing breakfast! Please, let go!" She half-protested, half-begged.
"And let you burn the kitchen? No way," Yahiro scoffed.
"Is there harm in frying fish and fixing breakfast?" Megumi bit back, puffing her cheeks out. Yahiro rolled his eyes and untangled his arms around her.
"Fine. Do what you want," He grumbled at her. He grabbed the newspaper folded on top of the dining table and slumped on a chair.
Megumi sniffed, glumly putting oil in the pan. Yahiro moved the newspaper aside, eyebrows lifted as he watched her move around the kitchen.
His eyebrows knit in confusion when Megumi took a step back and glared at the bubbling cooking oil. Since when did she become this weird?
"What are you doing?" he asked, folding his arms.
No response. He rolled his eyes.
"Don't stare at it. It's just cooking oil," he impassively comments, earning a glare from his wife.
What does she know about cooking oil that he does not know?
Yahiro let out an irritated sigh and pushed Megumi's elbow, causing her to throw the cleaned fish on the pan. The sizzling oil splattering all over, the pan slightly tilted to the side. Megumi jumped back in terror, throwing the spatula in the process.
She ran to Yahiro, her hand clutching his sleeve as she shuddered violently.
He tried so hard to bite down a snicker, but miserably failed. Unable to hold his amusement, he laughed and clapped his hands with mirth.
Megumi seethed at him as she got over the initial shock. As long as her husband is with her, she's banned in the kitchen.
"I'll take care of breakfast," he suggests, rubbing his thumb on the crease between her eyebrows.
She grumpily untied her apron. "Can you cook?" She asked, eyes narrowing at her husband.
"Well, no. But our chef does." He answered with a dismissive shrug. Megumi only pouted.
Yahiro sighed, brushing the stray tear on the corner of her eyes. "It's not a problem if you can't cook, you just need to learn…" he smiled, patting her head gently.
"We'll find a school where you can destroy kitchens. Don't worry, I can pay the damages," he winked.
"Y-You…!" Megumi screeched.
After a few minutes, an expert cook arrived and they had quite a lavish breakfast for an ordinary morning.
"Yahiro…" Megumi called, occupying the seat across him in the living room.
"Hm?" He hummed, looking away from the newspaper.
\Can I ask Ryuu-nii to come over?/ She held up her magic slate.
"Okay. Wai— what?!" Yahiro coughed, eyes wide in shock.
\Well, I wouldn't want to burn kitchens like what you assumed/
"And Tsuji can solve it?!" He screeched and looked at her in disbelief. She just looked away.
"Well, he's already on his way…"
"And you still bother to ask me?!"
Yahiro didn't expect he would become a victim of his own jokes.
The next hour, Yahiro was face to face with a murderous Ryuu.
"M-Megu—"
He was cut off by the Tsuji heir's lethal stare.
"Yeah, nice to see you too."
