the sun pouring through the curtain-less window wakes you gently, coaxing you out of sleep as you blink and rub your eyes tiredly.

the vampire beside you is already wide awake, lying on his side staring at you when you roll over to find out if he's still in bed.

crowley's seemingly natural smirk rests on his lips as per usual, and he reaches out to wrap a strand of your hair around his finger. "i think i like seeing you in my bed." he teases honestly, messing around with the strand of hair.

you snort, taking in the red shirt the vampire's wearing, raising an eyebrow at his never before seen attire. you realize now he had left last night to change. you find yourself thinking about how strangely cute that would be if he weren't your enemy. you shake your head to clear you'd head of the thought.

"i think you should make me breakfast today." you suggest to the vampire, who raises an eyebrow in return to your thought.

he sighs, shrugging. "i could try."

you grin lazily, dropping your head back onto the pillows. "i want pancakes."

crowley blanches, shaking his head. "i don't think i can make pancakes."

your teasing grin drops, and you feign a pout. "then let me make pancakes. they happen to be my specialty."

crowley nods contemplatively, before shrugging, offering you a like of 'why not'.

"great!" you grin, jumping out of bed quickly, wasting no time in making your way to the door.

"now?" crowley groans, flopping back down onto the mattress.

you raise an eyebrow, a question entering your mind as you watch crowley complain.

"do you ever take that stupid braid out of your hair?" you ask, leaning back against the closed door as you speak.

crowley looks mildly offended at your question, but shrugs. "i do, but usually only when i shower." he shrugs, propping himself up on his elbows as he responds. "why? it doesn't look dumb, does it?"

you snort again, covering your mouth with your hand in an attempt to stifle the sound. you shake your head. "it's not that bad. it's just-you never change it. it's the same stupid braid every day."

"i'm gonna pretend you didn't say that." crowley states, finally getting out of bed. "and i guess we can get you breakfast now."

you nod, waiting for the sweatpants and dark red t-shirt clad vampire to follow you out into the hallway.

———————

you clean up the kitchen as you go, putting together all the necessary ingredients for the pancakes you're making.

they smell good as you flip the first batch in the cast iron pan, giving yourself a self satisfied smile when you see that they're all perfectly golden brown, just like always.

"they're cute." crowley piped up from behind you, leaning over your shoulder as he watches you poke the top of a fluffy pancake.

"that's why i like them." you sigh happily, scooping out the pancakes and putting them onto a plate. "make the next ones." you instruct crowley, handing him the spatula and pouring more batter into the pan.

crowley gives you a look, but takes the spatula from your outstretched hand, turning to keep an eye in the batter as you drench the fresh pancakes in syrup.

they're soft and fluffy when you eat them, and you can't help but feel satisfied at your handiwork.

you enjoy pancakes no matter how many times you have them, and they always bring you a sense of nostalgia and contentment. even in this situation, you feel more at ease now that you've had one of the most comforting foods to make you feel a little more secure.

"i think they're fine." crowley pipes up after a couple of minutes, you turn around in your seat at the table, catching crowley in the midst of flipping the last pancake of the second batch, and they look alright.

"not bad. make the rest after." you insist, finishing off the last of the pancakes in your plate.

"you can't tell me what to do. i tell you what to do." crowley corrects you, sending you a glare, which you're happy to ignore.

"really? i don't like that, let's change it." you tease, standing to put your plate in the sink and rinse it off.

crowley takes the new pancakes out of the pan, and puts them on a new plate, soon putting the last of the batter into the pan.

"does this mean i get my breakfast when we're done here?" crowley asks, a devious tone to his voice. you stop in your tracks, instinctively covering the side of your neck with your hand.

"i hope not." you cringe, taking a single step away from the vampire, who was still focused on the task at hand.

strange. it's strange how someone of crowley eusford's nature could stand in a kitchen with his food and make her food. opting not to kill and eat her, but instead look after her. albeit in a selfish, obsessive way, but also the only way he knows how right now.

you lower your hand as you zone out, thinking not about the danger, but the intriguing prospects of all that has been happening.

before you know it the last of the pancakes are on the plate, and crowley is leaning over you, and you're leaning against the table.

"well?" he asks, his unusually bare hand coming to rest over yours as you grip the edge of the table, anxiety coming over you.

"i don't really want to scare you..." he sighs, his lips grazing the top of your head as he subtly inhales the smell of his own shampoo in your hair.

"as if i'd let you scare me." you grit out, but you're sure he knows how anxious you really are.

"always so stubborn." he whispers fondly, raising his arms to wrap around your shoulders in another hug, one much like the one from the previous night.

your breath catches, but you hope it's just because his actions are so unexpected. you hesitate, your grip on the tables edge tightening momentarily before loosening again, and then letting it go completely.

you return the embrace, your emotions clashing like the opposite sides of a war finally meeting in battle, and your conflicting is nearly physically painful.

crowley's grip tightens momentarily, as if he's thinking about things as much as you are.

"...are you okay?" he asks quietly, his soft spoken question catching more off guard than his actual gestures of affection.

you nod into his shoulder, setting your jaw as you deny crowley the truth. how could you possibly be okay?

you inhale sharply, leaning back and away from crowley. "i'm fine. you don't have to ask." your tone is stubborn, defiant. you're sure of yourself when you speak. you may not be okay right now, but you won't let it get the best of you. after all, you already know how tough you are.

you look down at the floor, tugging the collar of your shirt down to expose soft, porcelain skin. "please just get it over with."

you study the tiles on the floor as crowley takes his turn to set his jaw, as if taking time to try to deny himself the willing offer.

you close your eyes as crowley's face inches closer to the side of your neck, his warm breath ghosting across your sensitive skin as he prepares to bite.

to your surprise, his fangs don't come first, but his lips. crowley places a soft kiss to the place he would choose to bite.

"i apologize." he murmurs against your skin, causing you to shiver. "i wish i could help myself."

after he speaks, you feel the familiarity of fangs sinking into your flesh, but even though it stings, it's a little bit less painful than before.

the stinging subsides momentarily, and you have to grip the table again as you get lightheaded, the room spinning around you slightly when you open your eyes.

crowley pulls away from your neck, away from your fresh bite marks which are stinging once more, though barely.

his hands come to rest on your cheeks, grounding you and your spinning head. "i'm fine." you tell him, pulling his hands away from your face, but he places them right back again.

"i'm sorry." he says quietly, directing your face towards him so you really have to look at him. he sighs. "i didn't mean to hurt you."

you shrug it off, reaching up again to wrap your hands around his wrists. "i'm not hurt." you stand, the lightheadedness beginning to subside as you take a few steps forward. "see?"

crowley tilts his head, still looking somewhat guilty as he looks at you.

"okay. let's go back upstairs." he suggests, taking hold of your upper arm and directing you back towards the stairs.

you follow without argument, allowing yourself to be pulled along as you walk up the flights of stairs to reach the top floor.