Romano x Reader. Cooking Classes.

    The knife slid through the red fruit with ease, it was the simplest thing you'd ever done. Holding the blade handle tightly and controlling it gave you a sense of power, like you could go out and rule the world.

    Lovino crossed his arms and gave a scalding critique just with his eyes, "No, no, you're doing it all wrong, you stupid girl."

    Apparently, ruling the world would have to wait, seeing as you couldn't even cut a simple tomato, "Well don't just stand there," you snapped, looking up at him, "help me if you think I'm so horrible."

    The Italian rolled his eyes, stepping behind you and resting his hand on your's, directing it more upwards on the handle, "This gives you more control." He said, his breathe hot on your neck.

    Lovino guided you hand through the cut, his other arm wrapped around your waist, his chin on your shoulder.
  
    You felt so comfortable in his embrace, it was like you two were made for eachother, your bodies melding perfectly. "(Name)," your Italian lover whispered, the hand that guided your hand traveling to wrap around your waist, "ti amo."

    Those words brought a gymnastics routine to your chest, and a whole lot of blood rushing to you face. "T-ti amo, Lovino." You replied, mentally thanking your horrible cooking skills and Lovino's constant need to correct you.

    But cooking classes and ruling the world had to wait, at that moment the only thing that mattered was getting Lovino to say 'I love you' once again.