— Age Six —
Saturday morning began with birdsong and the smell of sunlight pouring through the windows.
Lysia was already in Caelum's house by the time the clock hit 9:00. She wore a cream apron tied over her navy shirt, sleeves rolled to her elbows, and a determined expression on her face.
"I'm going to bake cookies," she announced, fists on her hips.
Caelum looked up from the book he was reading at the table.
"You don't know how to bake."
"That's why I'm starting now."
He blinked. Then stood up, brushing invisible dust from his hands.
"…Alright. I'll supervise."
Lysia's smile turned triumphant.
"That's what I wanted."
Step One: Flour
Ten minutes later, the kitchen was a war zone.
There was flour in Lysia's hair, a thin trail of sugar across the counter, and a measuring cup that had somehow disappeared under a dish towel.
"You didn't level this off," Caelum said, inspecting the flour.
"I eyeballed it," she replied proudly.
He stared at her.
"Stop doing that."
"Why? That's how Grandma cooks."
"You're not your grandmother."
She stuck her tongue out.
He responded by gently dusting a puff of flour onto her nose.
She blinked. Then grinned.
"…Truce?"
"Depends. Are we baking or reenacting a natural disaster?"
Step Two: Eggs and Mischief
The next disaster came in the form of eggs.
Lysia cracked one — with far too much force — and half the yolk landed on the edge of the bowl and dribbled down the side.
She looked up innocently.
Caelum was already reaching for a towel.
"You're chaotic," he muttered.
"You're cute when you're annoyed," she replied sweetly.
He paused.
"…I'm not annoyed."
"You are. Your eyebrow twitches when you're trying not to sigh."
He blinked once.
Then turned away and quietly wiped the counter.
Step Three: Waiting for the Cookies
Somehow, miraculously, the cookies made it into the oven.
While they baked, the two of them sat on the floor beside the oven, watching the shapes puff and rise behind the glass.
Lysia leaned against Caelum's side.
He let her.
"Cael," she said softly.
"Hm?"
"If the cookies come out horrible…"
He glanced down at her.
"…Then we eat them anyway."
She smiled.
"Like a pact?"
"Like a disaster alliance."
Cookies: Slightly Burnt but Beautiful
When the oven dinged, they pulled out a tray of uneven, slightly too-dark cookies — lopsided and full of charm.
Lysia took a bite.
Paused.
Looked at Caelum.
"…I think they're perfect."
He took one too. Bit.
Swallowed.
"…You burned the edges."
"They're crunchy!"
He handed her a glass of milk.
"You're lucky you're cute."
She beamed, cheeks full.
"You've said that twice today."
"I've thought it more."
A Forehead Poke
As she reached for a third cookie, he leaned forward and gently tapped her forehead with his finger.
She froze.
Then blushed.
"…Why?"
He shrugged.
"You get this smug look when you're proud of something small."
"I'm not smug," she mumbled, flustered.
"You're very smug."
She scooted closer, squishing his shoulder.
He didn't move.
Just let her be.
System Log – Peaceful Sync
[GENESIS CORE SYSTEM – OBSERVER MODE]— Baking Status: Chaotic Good— Emotional Reading: Stable / Playful / Warm— Subject LYSIA: Mild Fluster (Affection Level ↑)— Subject CAELUM: Full Awareness, Passive Support— Synchronization: 71.2%— Note: "In burnt cookies and forehead pokes, they find eternity softened into something sweet."