"Vat are you doing zis time, __________?" He asks, coming up behind you.
"Making Christmas cookies, duh! Biscotti, to be exact."
"Isn't zat Feliciano's zing?"
"Yeah, but he taught me how to make them. Besides, he's in Italy, remember?" You say, turning to face him.
"Ja, but vy do you have to make zem?" He questions, pecking you cheek.
"Because I like them. And you know you do, too, Luddy."
"Vould you stop calling me zat? Anyvay, go ahead. Just don't make a mess." He says sternly, crossing his arms for emphasis, his steel blue eyes flashing.
"Will do, Lud!" You say, getting to work.
"Gah!" You yell as a combination of butter and sugar flies out of the bowl. You turn off the mixer, placing it on the counter as you pick up the little pieces of the mixture and fling them back into the bowl. You look down, only to see your black t-shirt covered in flour and who-knows-what-else.
"__________? Are you okay?" Ludwig asks from the other room.
"Y-Yeah, I'm fine!" You reply nervously, not daring to look at the state the kitchen was in.
"Whew. Finally done!" You exclaim tiredly as you pull the last cookie sheet out of the oven, the heated air flying towards your face. You place the sheet on the marble counter-top and sit on the floor, your back resting against the cabinets and your head thrown back.
"___________? It smells gut. Are you d-VAT ZE HELL HAPPENED HERE?!" Ludwig shouts as he walks into the kitchen. Opening your eyes slightly, you see Ludwig standing in the doorway, looking almost murderous. His nostrils were flared, blue eyes cold.
Looking at the kitchen, you immediately knew why he was livid. His normally spotless kitchen was covered in splatters of biscotti dough, everything from the floor to the ceiling decorated with white flour or tan specks of dough, his sink overflowing with dirty dishes and his counter piled high with disused ingredients.
Closing your eyes, you groan as you realize that Ludwig would make you clean everything.
"Hey, are you okay, ___________?" He asks, seeming to have calmed down a bit. You hear his weight shift as he bends down next to you.
"Mmhm. I don't know how Feli can still have energy after all of that, though." You mumble. "Standing up for...How long was that? Three or four hours?"
"It vas five, frau."
"You do realize that you're cleaning zis up, right, frau?"
"Like hell I am." You whisper, keeping your eyes closed. ""I'm about to fall asleep right now."
"I know. It vas a joke."
"But don't make such a mess next time."