The soft sound of footsteps roused George from his deep slumber, and lazily he blinked open his dark eyes to peer languidly at the source of the noise. A lazy smile tugged at his lips as the culprit, a petite, brown haired girl was caught frozen in his stare.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up," Iris whispered, breaking the silence that had engulfed the room. Carefully she climbed onto the large bed and curled up in an impossibly small ball at his side, head leaning on his bare chest.
"Don't be sorry luv," he murmured sleepily, still poisoned with grogginess. Her reassuring warmth seeped into his side and once again he had to remind himself that she was really his. After all the years of waiting on the sidelines, all the years of wiping her tears and listening to her rant about the latest asshole, she finally got it.
"What are you thinking about?" she asked softly, her words tangling in the all too familiar American accent.
"You." he answered truthfully, a playful smile on his mouth as he ran his hand through her hair.
"Good thoughts or bad?" she questioned after a moment, her curiousity getting the better of her as it always did. It would be fair to say that he knew more about her than any other person on this planet, and vise versa.
"Good. Definitely good." Even though he could not see her, he knew that her cheeks were flushing and she was supressing a smile. With gentle hands he turned her around so her delicate face was pointed up towards his and placed a chaste kiss on her pursed lips.
"Yeh taste like toothpaste" he observed, tongue flicking out and licking lightly at his lower lip where the faint taste of mint toothpaste lingered.
"I just brushed," Iris admitted, eyes locked on his lips as she spoke. George felt her soft hands slip up his bare chest and roam around the skin there, rising light goosebumps as she went.
"Do you want me to make breakfast? We've got pancake mix," George found it increasingly difficult to concentrate on her words when her fingers were teasing his sensitive skin.
"Er...yeah." he managed to whisper, and she flashed him a sweet smile before rolling out of the bed and leaving him alone.
George ran a hand through his messy hair, and breathed deeply for a few minutes. That girl drove him wild without even realizing it. From his spot on the bed he could hear the tell tale signs of cooking, from the banging of the pans onto the stove top, to the slight scraping sounds of the spoon against a bowl.
With a groan he crawled out of bed and stretched his joints so they popped and loosened. He smiled brightly as he heard Iris switch on the radio and begin singing along with the music as she cooked.
With quiet steps he padded to the doorway and peered out at the girl who had captured his heart. She was wearing one of his old t-shirts and her wild hair was twisted into a bun at the nape of her neck. A Beatles song had just come through the speakers and Iris nearly dropped the bowl she was mixing in excitement.
"Georgie, they're playing you on the radio!" she shrieked before she turned the knob and made the music louder. George laughed at her childish excitement and at the way she was swaying her hips and dancing to the music.
Unable to watch any longer, he ran from the doorway and scooped her up in his arms, and with a scream she dropped the bowl. He ignored the mess he had made and instead focused on spinning around with Iris giggling like crazy in his arms, belting out the chorus with all his might.
Only when the guitars final twangs echoed across the kitchen did George realized what he had done. Pancake batter oozed sluggishly from the overturned bowl, dripping thick batter over the counter and onto the floor.
"You've ruined breakfast!" Iris chided softly as she placed a soft kiss on his cheek. George set her down and grinned sheepishly.
"Guess we'll just be 'avin' cornflakes," Iris laughed and slowly began to scoop some of the batter from the counter top, a strange gleam in her normally sweet brown eyes.
George's own eyes widened as he realized what she was going to do seconds before it happened.
"Iris, don't-" Before he could even finish the sentence she had flung some of the mix at him, the globby batter smacking into his face and momentarily blinding him. He swiped at the gluey mess and then glared heatedly at Iris who was struggling to contain her laughter.
"Yeh think that it's funny? Well 'ow about this." George reached over and smeared the batter down her face, laughing when she shrieked in protest.
"You got it in my hair!" George howled with laughter at her outraged face and before he knew what was happening she had flung her slight body at him, knocking the two to the ground.
"Fuck." he hissed when his head smacked into the tile floor with a crack. Iris payed no attention to his discomfort and instead straddled him and swiftly pinned his hands down with her knees.
"Iris what are yeh doin'?!" he exclaimed, eyes wide with fear. She smirked deviously in response and reached for the plastic bowl that still contained a good portion of the batter.
George began to wiggle underneath her, easily bucking her off of his body and snatched the bowl from her with quick hands.
"No!" George lobbed a handful of the stuff at her, smiling in childish delight when it smacked into her forehead and dribbled down her face. She pouted there for a moment, lower lip pushing out and eyes widening until laughter began to pour from her mouth.
The two of them sat laughing in the batter mess for what seemed like hours, gasping for air and holding their aching sides until the hysteria subdued and left them in silence.
"Look at this mess," Iris mused while she scrubbed away at the batter that was beginning to crust in her hair. George stood awkwardly, his limbs stiff, and set the bowl into the messy sink, a small smile on his lips.
Iris pressed a kiss to his cheek before she began to wipe up the batter on the counter. George silently went to get the mop so he could clean the floors.
The two worked in a comfortable silence until the kitchen was clean as it had been before. The batter fight had lasted all of five minutes, but the aftermath took the pair at least a half an hour to clear up.
"Shower time?" George asked, wiping the sheen of sweat off of his forehead with the back of his hand. Iris smirked, her back to him as she wrung out a dripping washcloth over the sink.
"Together?" she asked innocently, turning to bat her eyes at him.
George gave her a wolfish grin and answered by scooping her up in his arms and promptly marching into the bathroom.