Allison/Isaac + 41?
41. “You did all of this for me?” —this is just complete fluff, wow, like please brush teeth after reading that’s how sweet this is.
Allison opened the door to her apartment, exhausted from a long day of class, her bag heavy on her shoulder. She was one hundred percent ready for a drink and to take off the bra she’d been wearing for the last nine hours. She stepped inside, pushing the door shut behind her and stopped, looking around her. Something was different.
She dropped her bag and slipped out of her boots before taking a few more steps in. The apartment was… spotless. Perfectly clean. Even the DVDs on the entertainment set had been meticulously straightened and put away, not a single one out of place. The smell of bread and something savory, pasta sauce maybe, drifted in from the kitchen.
"Isaac?" she called, padding across the apartment in her socked feet, the discomfort over her bra momentarily forgotten. In the kitchen she found Isaac leaning over the stove stirring something in a huge pot. It was messier in here but it was obvious that he’d cleaned it before he’d started cooking. The table was set and there was even a small flower centerpiece in the middle.
Isaac turned to look at her, a smile on his face. “Welcome home.”
"I… you…" she began but her words got lost in her throat as she took in everything. Isaac looked soft and inviting in loose fit jeans and the grey knit sweater she’d gotten him last year for Christmas, curls still damp from a shower.
"Your texts made it sound like you had a rough day," he said after a moment, putting the spoon he’d been holding down and crossing the kitchen to her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and she immediately sunk into the familiar warmth of him.
"You did all this for me?"
He nodded, dipping his head to kiss her lightly on the lips. “Of course, you deserve to relax and I got out of work early. It was the least I could do.”
She kissed him again, bringing her hands up to twine in his hair, not caring if it was wet. “You’re amazing,” she murmured.
He led her to the table and sat her down. She watched as he popped open a bottle of red wine and poured her a glass. “Drink,” he said, “dinner will be done in a few minutes.”
She took the glass happily, sipping at the wine and watching him as he moved about the kitchen, stirring things and checking on the bread he’d made from scratch. And when dinner was done they ate and Isaac told her about his day and she complained about hers. He’d also bought things for ice cream sundaes, her favourite, and when they had finished their food they each piled toppings onto several scoops of cookie dough and settled onto the couch for a marathon of Friends.
"I love you," Allison sad as the theme song started up for the fourth time, their empty ice creams bowls abandoned on the coffee table in front of them. Isaac pulled her closer to him and kissed the top of her head. "Not as much as I love you."
