instafamous ✩ lrh [DISCONTINUED]

26. relationship?

Instafamous
26. relationship?

✖️

"Baby, let's face it. You can't crack eggs for shit."

I roll my eyes, choosing to ignore Luke's semi-offensive statement as he stares at me in exasperation.

"Sophie," he sighs, leaning over to snatch the bag of flour out of my hand. I manage to keep it out of his reach expertly, feeling pretty triumphant for getting it away in time, "That's not even the right measurement!"

"Will you let me work?" I ask sternly, though I'm unable to control my giggle as I try my hardest to weigh the correct amount.

"You're getting it all over the island," he groans, messing his hair up, "Have you never baked a cake before?"

"I thought we were baking cookies?"

"This just proves you don't listen. Hand me the bag," he instructs, and I shake my head.

"No. Let me work,"

"We won't get any work done if you don't stop messing about," he states in agitation, pinching the bridge of his nose.

I just ignore him, adding even more flour to the bowl despite it overflowing already. I'd stop, but I don't want to, because it's funny riling him up. "I think we need a bigger bowl,"

"No. I just need a bigger mouth so that you can actually listen to me for once," Luke sighs.

"Oh, I can hear you. I just choose to ignore you,"

"Charming."

"Very,"

I laugh once more at his agitated expression, amused at how little it takes for me to annoy him. Which says a lot, because Luke doesn't get irritated very easily.

"Will you lighten up?" I say, nudging him, "Here, we don't even need measurements,"

"What?!"

"They're too cliché," I scrap the cookbook positioned on the table, watching as Luke's mouth opens in slight shock, "We're trying not to be cliché."

"We are nowhere near cliché," he argues, "I doubt other people wake up at midnight just to bake cake at two A.M in the fucking morning," I open my mouth to contradict him, but he holds a finger up to stop me, "Naked."

"We're not naked," I narrow my eyes, "I'm wearing your shirt and you're wearing your boxers. That's not naked,"

"It might as well be,"

"Are you saying you'd rather me change into my pyjamas?" I ask, raising an eyebrow, "Because that covers everything-"

He's quick to shake his head, "Fuck no,"

"Then shut up, and watch your language," I mimick, in a deep voice meant to be him. He looks nowhere near amused as I make my way over to his fridge, humming under my breath.

I hear Luke groan, though I can tell he's not really annoyed, "You know, you get so sarcastic when you hang out with Ashley. I think she's starting to rub off on you,"

"She's my best friend. She rubbed off on me ages ago," I murmur subconsciously, rummaging through the endless protein shakes and whatever else he has in his fridge.