"Come on Lev, it isn't difficult. Just move back and forth slowly."

Levy huffed, irritated. "It keeps sticking. Gajeel, please, could you do it for me?"

He wrapped his arms around her and shook his head. "Nope. You gotta learn. Push a little harder and let things cool down a bit. It's too hot."

It was a mystery to Gajeel how Levy had made it this far in life without learning to make a decent plate of scrambled eggs. She could speak over twelve languages, but god forbid you ask her to do more than boil a pot of water. Levy would fret over every single detail: how much salt or milk to add, how long to mix, and the exact number of minutes to cook at each temperature. Yet every time she would still end up with a watery mess. Gajeel, on the other hand, could feel his way around a dish. He didn't need exact measurements, he added enough seasoning he thought it needed, gave a quick taste and added some more. He'd just mix the eggs and milk until he couldn't see any white, no specific time, and cooked the curds until they were fluffy and soft. It was as easy as—scrambled eggs. But his poor girlfriend was lost without specific measurements or time. This was her fourth attempt this morning, and they were down to their last two eggs.

Gajeel held her hands, cradled around the spatula and handle, and together they moved the egg around pan. His hips swayed as he danced behind her. He'd do anything he could to make her relax and just feel the process, not think about it. She leaned against his bare chest; it felt like home and happiness, everything he wanted on a Saturday morning—cooking breakfast with his love, barely covered in one of his shirts—until he noticed she'd let him take over. Gajeel nudged her forward and let go of Levy's hand.

"Can't just let me do it, Shrimp. I know how to cook eggs. Yer the one who's gotta learn," he purred in her ear, "but that trick nearly worked." Levy smirked before turning her attention back to the stove.

"I still don't see why I have to learn when you make them so well."

"Cause what if I'm on a job? What will you do then? I'm not letting ya go through life not knowing how to cook basic things. You, my love, deserve better than yer own overcooked eggs." Levy moved to interrupt, but he knew what she'd say and quickly kissed her cheek. "And ya can't rely on Mira and the guild forever."

Levy pouted. She didn't like when people acknowledged her problems, especially with something that was supposed to be easy. "I can make pasta."

"Noodles cooked in unsalted water with a canned sauce do not a meal make," Gajeel countered. She wrinkled her nose at him. It was a meal in her book. He took her hand again, gently helping her fold the eggs over. "Think of it like a story. Let the characters develop together but learn to stand on their own. Take them on a journey until they change for the better. Delicious eggy better." Levy snickered. Gajeel came up with some of the most terrible jokes, and she loved him for it. Swiping the eggs one more time around the pan, he took them off the burner.

"What are you doing? Some of it's still raw." Levy reached for the skillet, but Gajeel held it high above her head.

"Ya gotta pull them a little earlier than you'd think. They'll overcook in a minute. I'd rather have runny eggs in the pan and perfect eggs on the plate than perfect eggs in the pan and overcooked eggs on my fork." Levy glared at him. According to Gajeel she'd overcooked every batch she'd made. They'd tasted fine to her, normal in fact. He handed her a plate, sprinkling on just a little extra salt, and thought for a long moment. "It's like ruining something that could have been great. You'd be pissed if I gave you a crap cup of coffee." Levy would be more than pissed if Gajeel couldn't make a decent cup of coffee after as long as they'd been dating. It ran like blood through her veins. "Think of it, Lev. Like a cup made from old coffee grounds that have been sitting in the pantry for over a year brewed with lukewarm water."

Levy shuddered. She didn't even want to think about such a terrible drink. "Ok. I get it. Overcooked eggs are equivalent to a cup of coffee so horrible it should never be spoken of nor imagined again."

Gajeel laughed. If there was one quality culinary thing his little girlfriend understood it was coffee. "Exactly. And you'll never have to worry about that again, cause yer man just showed you how to make perfect scrambled eggs." Levy looked down at the plate in front of her. They seemed different from what she normally had but apparently that was a good thing. "See, they're soft, fluffy, and delicious; not the rubbery mess ya were eating before."

Scooping up a bite, Levy sighed and licked her lips. "This is really good, but the others weren't that bad."

Gajeel laughed. It was tough to get Levy to set aside her ego, but her effort touched him. "They should be good. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day after all."

"Yeah, but I still miss my chocolate stuff, " Levy said, scooping up another forkful.

"Put it in yer coffee. I'm not letting ya eat those toaster things anymore. Yer sweet enough as is." Gajeel pulled her chair out from under the table and spun it around. "In fact," he straddled her lap, lowering down to kiss her deeply, "Your lips are sweeter than any pastry." She kissed him back, pulling him down onto her.

"And you're cheesy enough to make fondue."

"Oh, so ya know how to make fondue, now?" Gajeel teased. Levy launched them both out of the chair, giggling as they hit the floor and rolled. He kissed her hard at first, then slow, peppering his lips across her skin. It really was a perfect Saturday morning.