Japhinne groaned as the light through the window dug her out of her slumber. Squinting, she scanned the wall for the chronometer which read some time after 10 am while her hand patted for the form usually next to her. Cold and the dent usually left after he had risen was gone. G’raha had gotten up early.
Despite the lack of morning cuddles, Japhinne was loathed to leave her warm spot and she would have allowed herself to doze back to sleep if the annoying sun rays weren’t determined to prevent it. She tried to bury her face in the pillow and drift, but the damage had already been done. Time to wake up.
Yawning and stretching, she slipped out of the bed and winced at how much brighter the room seemed standing up. She grumbled and glanced back at the mattress, ready to tumble back in until she fully awoke, but she caught the scent of fresh baking in the air and her stomach had full control of her brain.
Japhinne’s footsteps pounded against the stairs as she wobbled towards the kitchen. Muffins is it? Muffins would be good right now. Her stomach growled in agreement and her pace increased slightly as she rounded the corner rubbing the sand from her eyes.
“Japhinne? Are you awake?” a familiar voice called from the kitchen.
“Nnnnope,” she replied sleepily as she swayed and hobbled with eyes barely open. Upon approaching the kitchen, her shoulder hit the doorframe and she grunted out of reflex before glancing up.
G’raha was at the stove with pans and bowls scattered all about and a simple apron around his waist. As he bent down to get the correctly guessed muffins from the oven, Japhinne wandered to a stool by the counter and plopped down with a yawn. The miqo’te’s ears and tail flicked in tender greeting before he said, “Good morning, my sleepyhead.” and placed the muffins far enough away that Japhinne couldn’t burn her fingers trying to snatch one.
Cheek resting on her knuckles, Japhinne whispered, “Good morning, ma petit papillon.” and smiled lazily as he caressed her back while passing behind her. “The muffins smell good.”
“They’re Tataru’s recipe, so I pray they taste as good as they smell. Eggs are almost done and we have some frui–”
“Mmmmm...orange please...”
Had it been anyone else, they would have scoffed and told Japhinne to get off her ass to get one herself. They likely would have told her off for interrupting as well. And some days, G’raha would have been that person, but not today as he handed her an already sliced orange on a plate without a second thought and a knowing grin. Japhinne snorted at her own predictability and before he could escape, she hooked his waist to pull him into her. Tenderly, he brushed his lips against hers and smiled, the memories of the night before floating between them.
“None too sore?” he questioned before stealing another kiss and running his fingers through her bedhead hair.
“Only in the good ways~” she retorted and bit the bottom of his lip, enjoying the pleasured shiver from him that followed.
G’raha squirmed away from her clutches, much to her dismay, and playfully smacked her leg with his tail as he returned to the stove to fuss over a lidded pan.
“And you, Raha ~?” Japhinne drawled with her accent slipping in. The light caught on his engagement ear cuff as his ear flicked with interest at her tone and he exhaled to steady himself. Her smirk wasn’t unnoticed by him and the delightful red hues she adored so much painted across his cheeks.
“I have found this body is handling itself quite well. I haven’t asked for a backrub from you yet.”
“Yet ~” she cooed while slipping an orange into her mouth and reveled in the fluffing up of his tail. “After I eat, we can test those limits again~”
G’raha paused and pursed his lips trying to think of a witty or sly comeback, but he sighed when the moment of opportunity passed. Instead, he gave her a ‘maybe’ look, grabbed the plate, and began to dress it up with two muffins and a large helping of scrambled eggs from that one pan. Japhinne blinked and realized G’raha had never served her eggs before. On the First, it was always pancakes or biscuits with some fruit. A bit of bubbling excitement helped wake her up all the more to try something new and she sat up expectantly.
“Since when do you make eggs?” the elezen asked while accepting the plate.
“Ah, I never cared for the ones gathered ‘round Lakeland. A different flavor I never grew accustomed to. I pray you don’t mind my indulgence.”
“Hells no! I love them scrambled too, so you’re in luck!”
The relief was clear on G’raha’s face as he pecked her cheek once more and dug in the cupboards for his own plate and forks. And as Japhinne glanced down hungrily at the meal, something strangely familiar tugged at the back of her mind. Then, the aroma of the eggs hit her and that tug turned into a full embrace.
Are they?
For a brief second, she could have sworn she was back at the Glegont Manor and it was a cold Ishgardian morning. The echoes of baritone humming rang in her ears and she blinked away the beginnings of tears in her eyes. So vivid like he was never gone.
“Japhinne?” G’raha’s voice broke her from her trance. Her eyes met his and he nodded to the fork he held out. His brows furrowed as she took it and stared back at the food. “...Dear?”
She stared down those eggs, examining them to the fullest for any reason she shouldn’t have hope. Right color, right fluff, cut up a bit differently and more pepper than she would have liked, but nearly perfect. Her throat tightened with a swell of emotion that embarrassed her to be feeling over something as mundane as scrambled eggs, but it was there and she couldn’t ignore it.
Could they be?
Timidly, she retrieved a forkful and slipped it into her mouth with the energy one would use to rip off an adhesive bandage. It startled G’raha and he tilted his head with a myriad of questions threatening to spill from his lips. He refrained, however, and waited as her face changed from shock to twisting with sorrow.
“A-Are they so terrible? Japhinne, please, is something the matter? Please, d-don’t cry!”
The fork dropped clumsily to the plate as Japhinne covered her face and the tears spilled out. The reality where she and G’raha enjoyed domestic bliss had melted away and while she knew it was him holding her tight and soothing her, it was all she could to not sense the presence of a rather dapperly dressed elezen gentleman holding her sick body close and soothing her with the temptation of a homemade breakfast. With trembling hands, she hung onto the phantom for as long as it would stay, and her joyful sobs waned as the vision did. G’raha’s worried words brought the last of the nostalgia trip to an end and she quickly reached up to kiss him with sentiment overflowing.
He froze and she could sense his extraordinary confusion as she laughed.
“Thank you.”
“I...I...for what? Japhinne, what’s going on? One second you’re acting as if you want to toss me onto the sacks of flour in the corner and the next you’re–” He was interrupted with another kiss and a tight hug that lifted his feet off the ground as she rose up.
“You’re so wonderful to me,” she said in awe and swung him back and forth before finally settling him back down. “I’m sorry for suddenly getting strange, but I haven’t had eggs like these since...since I was little and… Papa was still alive. It just hit me all at once.”
The understanding struck G’raha before she even finished her explanation and he sweetly wrapped his arms and tail around her once more for any further comfort she needed. She accepted it with full gratitude and moved only to sneak another bite that had her melting in his hold as she let her mind drift to pleasant echoes of her childhood.
G’raha simpered as he stroked her hair and said, “W-Well, I’m glad I could give this back to you, dear. They aren’t any special recipe and I feared I had given you something horrendous.”
“How do you make them? I had so many people try to find how Papa did, but it’s like he had some secret thing no one could figure out.”
“Nothing fantastical. While they are still a little runny, I put some butter on top and let them simmer with a partial lid covering, and let them finish. 'Tis how one of my fellow students made them when we shared an inn room.”
The humor of someone from Sharlayan holding the key to her father’s long lost recipe wasn’t lost on her and she was thankful at least something delicious could spawn there for poor Krile and G’raha’s sake. But how like her father to be so practical to use such a simple technique and all this time it had evaded her. No longer, however. Not with someone just as important succeeding where he left off.
Placing her utensil down to cup G’raha’s face, Japhinne pressed her lips on his forehead. His ears wiggled joyfully and she looked once again at the jewelry adorning them. Glittering with constellations of jewels and all they represented. The promise of mornings together like this, the assurance of falling asleep in each others’ arms, the commitment of sharing a lifetime of memories, and the hope of one day having little ones stumbling out of bed for their scrambled eggs and muffins papa made.
Overcome with more happiness than her body could bear, Japhinne tearily kissed where the ear cuff and pink skin met and in the firmness of their embrace whispered,
“I knew I found the right one. I’m so glad you’re here, ma petit papillon. Je t'aime, ma Raha.”
“Je t’aime,” he murmured back with less than perfect pronunciation, but it was his and she loved it all the same. And she cemented in her mind that a lifetime having his scrambled eggs and imperfect Ishgardian was more than she could ever ask for.