A/N: A little story for Takumi's birthday. It's been a while but update for is it too late to try is up next! How old is Takumi anyway? Hope you enjoy this :)


It's 1 day before his birthday. And I'm royally screwed.I scan the kitchen and realize how big the mess I made. Sitting on the counter top is a melted disaster. And the rest of the room is covered in flour, milk spills, dough and chocolate.

"I can do this" I say to the recipe lying on the table.

I got the mixer and stabbed it in the bowl with all the ingredients. 1...2...3... It begins to stir, causing the stuff inside to move in all its stickiness. Eew. It goes faster and faster like a little whirlpool.

Then BOOM! The dough was all over me.

After 6 hours of this 3-step recipe, I've finally concluded.

Baking is an enemy. And the mixer is a monster.

I tried and tried. Takumi was always there for me. Surely, I can do this one little thing for him.

He baked in front of me almost every Sunday morning, attempting to satisfy my craving to learn. I didn't tell him it was to please him though. I just thought I could learn from the best and come up with a irresistible cake for his birthday.

He would do it so perfectly one would think he's a professional chef. And I would finish every last bit of his pastries like I was a hormonal pregnant wife.

My phone beeped a text and I had to jump over the little puddles of mess on my kitchen floor to get it.

Can't wait to see you. Be home after this meeting.

Ughh. I groan. Seriously? I lean back on the big refrigerator. My legs are tired from standing the whole day and it's completely exhausting trying to make something at least edible with my cooking skills.

I can't understand why Takumi puts it up with me. I can't cook. And he can. There's a million other ladies who wants him. He could have picked a trophy wife instead.

I slide down, sitting on the floor with my legs stretched out. A yawn escapes my lips and slowly, I let my self sleep for a while.

2 hours later...

The door bell wakes me up. I look around me and see that the kitchen reflects my inability to prepare something as a wife.

It rings again, and slowly, I get myself on my feet, stretching cramped muscles.

Without caring how I look like, I open the door to a gorgeous man in a crisp Armani looks neat and hot even after tons of meetings. I scan him from head to toe. All polished and beautiful while I'm here, welcoming him with flour in my face and gooey stuff in my hair.

Without a word, I break into tears.

" I- I'm s-s-sorry" I struggle to apologize in between sobs. I'm sorry I can't cook. I'm sorry I can't be the good wife.

I'm sorry. I don't deserve you.

" What's wrong, baby? Are you hurt? Are you okay?"

He pulls me into his arms while I cry uncontrollably in his chest. He wraps one hand around my waist while the other caresses my hair in attempt to soothe me. Flour gets all over his expensive black suit but he doesn't care.

"Calm down now. It's okay" He whispers gently when he realized what I was trying to do the whole day.

"I-I'm a mess. I can't even bake a damn cookie while you run your business and make billions and everybody else does everything to please you. And you would leave me for someone who can cook and be the perfect wife in your parties and..."

I scramble to release all my insecurities but Takumi cuts me off with a kiss. His lips melt into mine perfectly. And I can't imagine living without this anymore.

I tiptoe and my arms wind up pulling him closer, my fingers tangled in his hair. I'm so lost in him. That I forget why I was crying in the first place.

He lifts me up and my legs go around his waist automatically.

He walks and puts me down on the kitchen counter without breaking the kiss. He looks up to me and I can't help but look in to his mesmerizing green eyes while I try to recover from the breathtaking kiss.

" Baby, I love you. Don't you ever say your not perfect for me. Because you are. And if you leave me, I don't think I have the willpower to let you go"

I practically melt on the table with his words.

"I don't think I can let you go either"

He smiles like a little boy who was given cookies.

Oh dear. Cookies.

He looks around and finds that the once elegant and state of the art kitchen is nothing but a disaster.

" Happy Birthday?" I say, embarrassed.

"What were you thinking?"He says angrily.

His voice frightens me like he's going to explode.

"I'm so sorry I messed up"

That's an understatement considering I ruined the expensive oven.

"You could have hurt yourself. Why didn't you call me to help you? What if you burnt your hand or what if you slipped on the milk or something and fell."

"You're not mad about the oven?" I asked, confused.

" I don't care about the oven. Misaki, you could have been hurt and I would not be here to save you"

" But I'm okay. "

"Promise me you won't do that again."

"Fine, I promise."

He kissed me again and I had to push him away so I could give him his gift.

"What's wrong?" He said as I reached in the pocket of my apron.

"It's your birthday gift. But you can't open it until tomorrow"

I handed him a white envelop and he accepted it with hesitation.

"It's the gender of our baby" I told him with a shrug, trying to sound nonchalant.

His eyes widened as he lit up a mega-watt smile. He carried me from the counter and he spun me around with my tiny baby bump in the middle.

"I. Love. You." He said between kisses.

And just like that, the kitchen was forgotten and the night was full of love as we waited for the clock to strike twelve.


A/N: Hope you enjoyed it. Drop a review!

Also, thanks for all those who listed me and my stories as a favorite/ followed. I'll update is it too late to try next :)