CHAPTER 72: CHAPTER 71: KITCHEN DISASTER & OLIVER II

The smell of pancakes half-burnt, half-perfect filled the kitchen. Oliver hummed under his breath. Guess what? It’s off key. He flipped the last one, his hair a complete mess, his bare chest slightly stained with flour. Athena just watched him, biting back a laugh every time he muttered something under his breath like, "See? Who needs Gordon Ramsay when you’ve got sheer willpower."

When he was done, he turned with an exaggerated flourish, holding the plate like it was a royal dish. "For you, my lady," he said with a dramatic bow, setting it in front of her where she still sat on the counter, legs swinging.

Athena eyed the stack suspiciously. The top two looked... edible. The rest underneath looked like they’d survived a small explosion.

"Behold," Oliver said proudly, "art in edible form."

She raised a brow, hiding a smile. "You mean chaos in edible form."

He placed a hand on his chest. "Ouch. You wound me."

She giggled and finally picked up the fork. The first bite made her pause. Her brow furrowed. "Wait..." she took another bite, slower this time. "This is actually good."

Oliver froze mid-grin, pretending to look shocked. "What? Say that again for the record."

"It’s good," she repeated, rolling her eyes but smiling. "Like... surprisingly good."

"Of course it is," he said smugly, stepping closer between her knees, his grin back in full force. "I told you, I’m a man of hidden talents."

"Hidden because you nearly set the stove on fire," she teased.

He leaned in, resting his hands on either side of the counter. "But the result," he murmured, "was worth it, wasn’t it?"

Her smile softened as she nodded. "Yeah. It was."

They stayed like that for a moment, close, quiet, the kind of silence that wasn’t empty but full. Then she cut off another small piece of pancake and held it up to his mouth. "Your turn, chef."

He blinked, feigning modesty. "Oh, I don’t..."

"Eat it," she said, smiling.

Oliver bit the piece from the fork, chewing dramatically. "Mmm," he said with fake seriousness. "Tastes like victory. And maybe a little smoke."

Athena laughed, shaking her head.

"Admit it," he said, eyes gleaming, "you love it."

She didn’t answer just scooped another bite and brought it to his lips again. "Eat before I change my mind."

"Yes, ma’am." He obeyed instantly, eyes not leaving hers this time.

It felt so normal. So easy.

The way they leaned into each other. The way their laughter filled the quiet corners of the room.

Oliver wiped a smudge of syrup from her lip with his thumb, his touch gentle, then he licked the finger. "You’ve got something right there," he murmured.

"Liar," she said softly, her heart fluttering anyway.

"Maybe," he said with a small smile. "But it got me closer."

She wanted to scold him, to roll her eyes but she didn’t. She just stared at him, warmth blooming through the ache that had lived in her chest for too long.

So she picked up another piece of pancake and pressed it to his lips again, quieter this time. "Here," she whispered.

He smiled against her fingers, took the bite, and leaned forward just enough that his forehead brushed hers. "Breakfast of champions," he murmured.

Athena’s laughter came out soft, almost a sigh. "You mean breakfast of fools."

"Then I’m proud to be one. A fool for you..." he said, grinning.

Her heart squeezed, gentle and sharp all at once. She didn’t deserve him. But she also couldn’t let go of this, this warmth, this safety, this rare beautiful peace and she was going to savior every moment with him.

So she stayed. Feeding him another bite. Laughing through the morning light. Pretending, just for a little longer, that guilt didn’t exist.

...

Oliver washed the last dish and set it carefully on the rack, water dripping from his hands. Athena sat on the counter, legs swinging, chin resting on her palm as she watched him with that soft, quiet smile she didn’t even realize she had.

When he finally turned around, he caught her staring.

"What?" he asked, a mischievous curve tugging at his lips.

"Nothing," she said quickly, straightening up.

He dried his hands on a towel, eyes glinting with that familiar trouble. "Nothing, huh?"

"Oliver," she warned, brows furrowing. "What are you up to?"

Instead of answering, he only grinned and walked closer, slowly, until he was standing right between her legs, the one she spread for him when he got near. His gaze dropped from her eyes to her lips, then back again.

"Oliver," she said again, this time a little breathless.

He leaned in just a little, his voice low, teasing. "You know, it’s really quiet in here. You could fix that."

She blinked, realizing what he meant, and quickly leaned back. "I haven’t brushed yet," she blurted out.

He tilted his head, pretending to think. "Oh, so now you remember that?"

She laughed, the sound light and soft. "I’m serious!"

He smirked. "So you conveniently remembered after eating half my pancakes?"

Athena tried not to laugh harder but failed miserably. "I forgot... guess I’m so dirty then."

"I don’t care," he said simply, leaning in again.

She leaned away, giggling, one hand pressed against his chest. "Oliver!...stop."

"What?" he asked innocently, lips barely an inch from hers.

Then, out of nowhere, his hands slipped behind her, one smooth motion and before she could react, he’d lifted her clean off the counter.

"Oliver!" she gasped, clutching his shoulders.

"Relax," he said, that grin never faltering. "I’m just taking you to brush."

"To brush?" she repeated, half laughing, half shocked.

"Mm-hmm," he said, already heading toward the hallway as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

"Why?" she asked through laughter.

He gave her a perfectly straight face. "Because my kiss deserves minty freshness. Don’t you think?"

For a moment, she just stared at him then burst into laughter, real and unrestrained, her head falling back as the sound filled the kitchen.

Oliver only watched her, his smile softening into something warm, something that made his chest ache in the best way.

He didn’t say anything. He just watched her laugh like the world was light again.

Oliver carried her all the way to the bathroom, her laughter spilling against his shoulder as she squirmed lightly in his hold.

"Oliver, put me down," Athena said between breaths, still giggling.

"Nope," he said simply, his tone playful but steady. "Can’t risk you escaping now. Toothpaste mission in progress."

She groaned dramatically, her fingers curling around his shirt as he nudged the bathroom door open with his foot. "You’re ridiculous."

"Not the first time hearing that...I’ve been told," he said, setting her gently down on her feet.

Athena brushed back her thick butt length white hair, still smiling despite herself. He leaned against the doorway, arms folded, watching her like he was watching something sacred. She picked up her toothbrush, shot him a suspicious look, and said, "You’re not actually waiting here, are you?"

He smirked. "Of course I am. I’ve got to make sure the operation succeeds."

"Operation?" she asked, already squeezing toothpaste onto her brush.

"Minty Fresh Redemption," he said, deadpan.

Athena choked out a laugh, toothpaste almost flying. " Stop being silly."

"Perfect." he corrected with mock pride.

She began brushing, trying to focus, but his gaze followed her every move, his grin tugging wider each time she tried not to laugh. When she was done, she rinsed and turned to face him, a little shy but smiling.

"Well?" she asked, raising a brow. "Mission accomplished?"

Oliver pushed off the wall and took a step closer, close enough for her to feel his warmth. "Hmm," he murmured, pretending to think as his eyes lingered on her lips. "Maybe I should check."

"Check?" she echoed, already laughing, her voice soft.

He leaned down, his tone light but eyes gentle. "Quality control, doll."

Before she could protest, he brushed his lips against hers soft, fleeting, and warm. Just enough to make her heart skip.

When he pulled back, she was smiling so wide her cheeks hurt.

"Verdict?" she whispered.

Oliver grinned. "Perfect. Mint approved."

She hit his chest lightly, laughing. "You’re so foolish."

"Yeah I know...like I said...A fool for you." he said, voice low, teasing but tender.

She rolled her eyes, still smiling. "Maybe you’re."

He caught her hand and pressed a quick kiss to her knuckles. "Good. Because I’m not planning to stop loving you anytime soon."

Her heart skip. The guilt not letting her escape him.

Oliver grinned and stepped back, brushing his thumb along her cheek. "Well," he said, voice low with that playful glint in his eyes, "now it’s my turn to brush."

Athena blinked, then burst out laughing. "Oh, so you’ve been teasing me all this time when you haven’t even brushed?"

He held up his hands, pretending to defend himself. "Hey, in my defense, I didn’t promise minty freshness yet."

She shook her head, still laughing. "Unbelievable. You were throwing insults at me!"

Oliver smiled, that warm, boyish kind of smile that always made her chest feel lighter. "Only because your pout was too cute to resist."

Athena giggled, covering her face with her hands, and he leaned closer, whispering, "You’re smiling again. Mission still a success."

She peeked at him through her fingers, eyes sparkling. " What should I do about you?"

He brushed a quick kiss to her forehead. " Just don’t stop loving me."

She didn’t give him a reply this time. Her heart picking up pace. Her heart was breaking and the pain she is feeling is bearable than what he might feel in the future.

Athena forced a smile but he came out stiff. So she didn’t bother, she let the smile drop. What’s the point in faking it.

Oliver noticed it immediately. "Hey," he said gently, brushing his fingers against her arm, "what’s that look for?"

She hesitated, then exhaled, her voice quieter now. "You shouldn’t act this cocky," she said, trying to keep her tone light but failing. "Especially now that you’re... traveling soon."

The words hung between them, still and sharp.

Oliver’s grin faltered, the playful spark in his eyes dimming a little. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, as if searching for the right thing to say.

Athena looked down at her hands, suddenly fidgeting with the hem of his shirt she wore. He probably changed her clothes last night. "You’re leaving in a few days, and you’re still here joking like it’s nothing," she said softly. "Like time isn’t running out."

Oliver stepped closer, but she didn’t look up. He sighed, his voice low. "I joke because if I don’t, you’ll cry. And if you cry, I won’t be able to leave at all."

Her throat tightened. "That’s not funny," she whispered.

He smiled faintly, though it didn’t reach his eyes. "It wasn’t supposed to be."

Athena finally looked at him, really looked and the warmth from before turned bittersweet. "You always do that," she said quietly. "You make everything feel lighter... even when it’s breaking me."

Oliver cupped her face, his thumb tracing her cheek gently. "Then let me keep doing it," he murmured. "Just until I go."

Her eyes glistened, and she gave a weak laugh that cracked in the middle. "You make it sound like you’re not coming back."

He didn’t answer right away. He just smiled soft...