Define love
Undefinable.
Every Sunday Maya made apple pie.
Or at least she tried to.
Cooking had never been her forte; try as she might. Her passion lay with eating food instead of preparing it to the despair of her chef husband Chase, just as it had sent her Grandma Yolanda into fits of irritation. The talented at cooking gene had definitely skipped her.
Waving the damp dish cloth into the air; she would shriek as black smoke drifted in ringlets from the oven. Small sparks would come from it before turning into black embers. Grabbing an oven mitt, she would yank open the oven door.
Sputtering in indignation; she would helplessly look at the burnt, bubbling leftovers from the remnants of the pie. Her heart sank as she took in the mess – there wasn't any possible way to save it.
"Forgot to check it again, didn't you?"
Hearing a chuckle behind her; she would indignantly whirl around to face her husband.
Leaning against the counter; he would slyly hold up the timer he had bought her; months before when she had started on her pie baking adventures.
"Oh Chase, you know it's not my fault!" She'd cry in reply; her plump bottom lip edging into a pout. Not everyone was meant to be a culinary genius like her love, after all. "Weren't you supposed to be at work still?" She added, wondering at his flour covered hands. Rarely – aside from Sundays was there a day when he ever came back from work when she hadn't fallen asleep in the kitchen chair waiting for him.
"I came running back after I remembered it was Sunday." He replied dryly; a hint of amusement flavoring his voice. A bubblegum colored blush would cover her cheeks as she innocently glanced away from him.
One day she would get better at cooking…though it didn't matter too much. If she became better at it, there wouldn't be any certain distractions to bring Chase back to her!
Happily Maya would lean forwards on the tips of her toes; her head barely reaching her husband's shoulder. Brushing her cheek against his collarbone; a smile would grace her lips as she inhaled the familiar scent of orange his hand would move to cup her chin; tilting her head back slightly, just enough for his lips to be able to capture hers in a chaste kiss.
"You always do come back."