A/N Hey, this breaks right off of "Your Heart Will Open Minds" after chapter fifteen. It would have just been chapter sixteen, but it wasn't exactly long enough. You should read that first before you read this. Anyway enjoy!
Yang
I stretch my arms and yawn loudly as I walk down Weiss' huge staircase towards the small sitting room on the first floor. Next to it is the dining room, but that's not where I'm heading. I walk through it and into the enormous kitchen that must be filled with servants when her father is home. I'm glad that they aren't here though, because they would make what I'm trying to do much more difficult.
Next to the huge industrial stove is an equally industrial refrigerator that I suppose could hold whatever I need. On closer inspection, it seems that I'm right. I root through the metal fridge, braving the slight chill to get to my prize, eggs. Maybe I should have worn more than just my tanktop and shorts, I think, taking out a bowl of them and placing them on the steel counter next to the stove.
I'm so romantic for making my girlfriend breakfast in bed; she's going to show me so much love, I know it. Across from me, I see a wooden cabinet labeled bowls and I reach over and go into it, taking out one wooden bowl to mix the eggs. Beneath it is a drawer labeled utensils. Inside it, I see a small fork and I take that as well, dropping them both next to the bowl of eggs, I crack my knuckles, ready for this.
I pick up one large egg and crack it on the side of the bowl, pouring the liquid into it. Spying a garbage can on the opposite side of the room and hold the eggshell like it's a shot put, hurling it towards my target. It misses completely and lands with a wet splat five feet away.
I'll get it later.
Returning to the task at hand, I open the cabinet to the bottom left of the stove and pull out a frying pan, pleasantly surprised that I was able to find it on my first try. I place it on the stovetop and turn a knob to the right slowly, creating a low flame. Next I need some oil so I tear through the different cabinets, tossing aside the things that I don't need until I find a small vial of olive oil. It isn't exactly what I would like to use, but it'll have to do. I pour a small amount on the frying pan and pick it up, tilting it around to spread it without touching it. Shuffling over to the bowl, I take the fork and whisk the egg swiftly, not stopping until the yellow color is nice and even. Quickly, I pour the egg onto the pan and step back as it sizzles and pops, solidifying on the bottom and shielding the liquid on the top.
What does this need? What goes into an omelette? Oh I know.
I walk back to the fridge and reach into it, pulling out a wedge of cheese and holding it between my arm and my chest. I also take a bowl of mushrooms and hold it like a waiter holding a tray before shutting the door with my foot and going back to the stove. I don't have a knife or anything, yes it's a kitchen, but I'm on a timer here. I take the wedge of cheese and place it on the counter beside the stove and karate chop down, breaking it in half.
That ought to do it.
I pick it up and feel the waxy substance melting in my hands. Suppressing my aura, I crumble the cheese in my right hand, letting it fall all into the center of the egg that fries before me. The mushrooms come next. I plunge my hand into the bowl and pull out a handful of the cool, brown edibles, tossing them onto the now melting cheese. Overhead, a metal spatula, stirring spoon and serving ladle hang, but I only need the spatula. I pull it down and pick up the frying pan, sliding the spatula underneath the right side, flipping it over the left. It sizzles satisfyingly and I take a deep breath, causing my stomach to growl.
Calm down girl, you'll get your own later.
After letting it cook for a couple of minutes, I grab a plate from another cabinet, which took me a few minutes to find, and slide the omelette onto it. I take the fork that I had used to scramble the egg and slide it between the folds of the egg and make my way back to our room. I kick the door open and walk in, staring at the beautiful Faunus girl that lays in my bed.
"Blakey! Time for eats!" I exclaim, dropping down on the bed next to her and presenting the plate to her.
"Yang! You cooked me breakfast? That's incredibly sweet of you," she says, closing her eyes and cupping my cheek and pressing her lips to mine, sliding her tongue inside. Her tongue flicks at mine momentarily before she nibbles on my bottom lip, resting her forehead on my own. When she opens her eyes, she looks into my own and unwillingly pulls it away. Eyeing the omelette suspiciously before looking up at me, "You kept the eggshells out of it this time, I hope," she says, flashing me a roguish grin. I roll my eyes at her and smile back as she removes the fork, using the side of it to cut a tiny piece off. Gingerly placing it into her mouth, she makes a noise of approval and eagerly takes another bite.
Eventually, she finishes the omelette and places the plate aside, leaping onto me and aggressively pinning my arms to the bed. She looks at me with her eyes full of desire and dips her shoulder, making the sleeve of her yukata fall slightly, exposing some of her upper chest to me. My stomach rumbles again, but now I have another hunger that I need to take care of.