So I got the idea to do a few little fluffy, no real reason, type one shots with the characters from This Life Will Be Better and Perfectly Flawed. I'll put where they happen at the start,so...This one happens just after Adam and Carter move in with V in chapters two and three of Perfectly Flawed. Sorry in advance for any spelling errors, I'm stuck using wordpad and it has no spell check.
Adam hadn't been sure what to expect when he and Carter moved in with Victoria. Yes, he loved her, and yes, he was looking forward to seeing her in the mornings and evenings and a number of times on her day off-but he was nervous as well.
He didn't know her habits, if them being there would mess things up in any way, and what the new house-their house,he realized, it was their house-was going to be like.
But in the end, all his worries were for nothing-everything had gone at least mostly smooth, and she had set Carter up with all his things he had gathered over the past seven years-in addition to the stuffed dog she had given to him, he had a number of pieces of colored glass in an old wodden box, and a few bits of things even he didn't know what they were-and Adam had moved into the master bedroom with her.
It was so effortless, when he thought back on it-she had made suggestions and let Carter pick a room and thrown herself into making it a perfect home for them, always looking for imput and working every good idea in somehow.
And he'd gotten used to the routines she had, merging them effortlessly with his own-and sometimes, creating entirely new ones.
Most mornings, he woke up before she did. Sometimes, he woke up when she was in the shower. But no matter what, the routine was similar-if not the same.
When he woke up first, he'd stay and cuddle her a little, her sleepy laughter tickling his ears as she shifted to cuddle back. Once she was awake she'd give him a quick kiss that he'd return before she headed for the shower, and he went to the kitchen.
It had only taken a week before he knew what she had every morning for breakfast-and only another day or so before he started to make it.
The first time, it hadn't gone very well, the toast getting stuck and the eggs burning and setting off the fire alarm, causing his wife to tumble into the hallway, eyes filled with worry and the shower still running in their bathroom. She had relaxed when she saw the attempt at cooking, turning off the stove and giving him a 'thank you', one arm loosely wrapped around his waist as she leaned against him.
"Not quite a chef,then?" She'd asked, her tone and the laughter he saw in her eyes when he looked down letting him know she was teasing lightly, causing him to huff a soft laugh.
"*Not really. Never thought about it much,I guess." He'd commented with a shrug, though he smiled.
"Well, we can figure it out together. We've got plenty of time,after all.
She'd kept the promise-helping him to learn how to make a variety of things, sometimes having a 'date night' in which they cooked together, though he often teased she snuck bites of the ingredients more often then he did. She often responded with a laugh and by flicking something at him-which had occasionally resulted in them turning 'making dinner together' into 'food fight followed by a bath together'
They had routines. And they liked how they were-and if something changed, they'd change with it-as simple as can be.