Fallen Angels and Broken Wishes (One on One)

"I, umm, what are they called again?" She bit her lip a little, embarrassed she forgot.

“P-pancakes?” Micheal asked softly, tilting his head.

"Oh. Right." She recited the word in her head a few times. "Okay. Well, what do…pancakes taste like?"

“Well… uh… good?” Micheal asked tenitively.

"Okay." She trusted him. If he thought they were good, she probably would too.

Micheal nodded slowly and continued the mixing of the batter. “It’s just the batter takes forever.”

"Well… Do you need help?" She didn't want to rush him, but she didn't want to place the weight of said "breakfast" on his shoulders.

Micheal shook his head. “I don’t need help. Thank you.”

"Okay." She began to move about the kitchen. "What do I do then?"

“I-I don’t know.” He watched her move around, feeling nervous.

"You don't know?" She examined the kitchen a little before wandering back to him. She leaned over his shoulder, quietly watching him once more.

Micheal reddened more as he poured some of the batter onto a pan. “I-I don’t.”

"Okay." She watched as the batter filled space on the pan.

Micheal watched it and turned on his stove, resisting the urge to lean back against her. Instead he stood and suffered.

"What does that switch do?" She asked as he switched on the stove. It didn't look at all familiar.

“It heats up the stove,” Micheal said, pointing to a tiny flame in the metal mesh of the stovetop.

"Oh." She leaned further to watch as the flame licked the metal. "And the stove holds those fires?"

Micheal nodded. “Yeah. So it’s important not to touch it.”

"Why?" She knew only of fires, not of the harm they caused. "It seems soft."

Micheal shook his head. He had been burned many times. Fire was not soft.
“It hurts.”

"It does?" It still didn't seem like it could cause much harm to her.

Micheal nodded slowly. “Do not touch it.”

"Okay." She walked over a little right next to Micheal to get a closer look at the flame. "It's still pretty cool though."

Micheal glanced at her, finally. “Y-yeah. It is, isn’t it?”

"Yeah." She leaned back a little, feeling the heat radiating from it.

Micheal sighed softly and poked at the pancake. “So… how are you?”

She thought for a moment. "I…umm… Good?" She wasn't sure why she had to think about it; she just knew she felt different.

(heyo?)

(Oh crap. Sooo how should we spicen this up?)

(Uhmmosoalcmsnma idk maybe he turns around a little too quickly and she's, like, right there?)