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"I made you pancakes - I hope that's okay, my pantry is basically empty, I really didn't have time to shop-"
"It's perfect, Lena, thank you! Oh, and you have toppings?" Kara's pitch rose with excitement, and Lena chuckled as her guest reviewed the table with child-like wonder.
"Sugar, and butter, and melted chocolate, and nocciolata - good choice! - and bananas - I'll let this slide, Lena - and caramel, and - are these apples?"
"Yes?"
"But who puts apples on their pancakes?"
Lena does not answer, and Kara turns to her, a concerned frown on her face.
"Lena?"
Lena sends Kara a smile that does not reach her eyes.
"Sorry, I was just- it's-"
"Tell me."
"I don't remember much from my mother, but she-"
"Lillian?", Kara questions with a frown, and Lena shakes her head.
"No. My biological mother. She died when I was four, I- I watched her drown."
Lena feels, more than sees, Kara rush to her side and engulf her in a hug. Kara smells like freshly pressed vanilla and the rays of the sun, and Lena buries herself in Kara's all-encompassing embrace.
"I'm sorry, Lena, I'm so sorry."
Lena shakes her head against Kara's chest.
"You don't have to apologise. It's just-" Lena sighs. "She used to make apple-cinnamon pancakes for me, in the morning, when she had time."
"Do you remember what else she put in them?" Kara inquires gently, stepping away from the hug so she can observe Lena closing her eyes and scrunching her brow as she rakes her memory for a long forgotten flavour.
"I think", Lena's hand grips the wood of her kitchen table, and Kara pries her fisted fingers open, sliding her hand into Lena's for her to hold onto instead.
"I think maybe caramel, and then- the apples on top, sprinkled with cinnamon, and there was- there was a bit of salt, too. And maybe- something acidic, sour, but that paired so well with the sweetness of the apples-"
Kara's lips graze the back of Lena's hand, light like a breeze and equally ephemeral, were it not for the burning thrill that propagates all the way to Lena's cheeks.
Lena still has her eyes closed - had not dared open them - when Kara gently lets go of her hand and vanishes in a gust of wind.
"Kara?" Lena calls out, gazing around her in confusion as a whir in dinosaur pyjamas blurs around her kitchen, stopping in front of Lena with a plate in her outstretched hand.
The blonde is grinning up at her, shyly, almost anxiously, her glasses endearingly crooked on her nose, her dinosaur top slightly rumpled, a bit stained on the equal sign of "Velociraptor = distance raptor/time raptor" (Lena had laughed embarrassingly hard the first time she'd laid eyes upon that pun).
And there, in Kara's right hand, is a plate containing three apple-cinnamon pancakes, artistically styled, with apples cut in spirals, drizzled caramel, powdered cinnamon, and a thin slice of lemon on top.
Lena gapes. She'd seen Kara without her glasses (after all, they had fallen asleep on the same couch one too many times), and she'd had her doubts, but had Kara just-
"Did you just- Are you- Is this for me?"
Kara's grin widens, suddenly more confident and sure, and she nods slightly.
"You deserve it."
Lena doesn't know which part Kara thinks she deserves (her trust? her friendship? her kindness? the forgotten feeling of home?) - none of it, Lena thinks.
"You do", Kara emphasises, as if reading Lena's thoughts, and she sets the pancakes on the table and pulls a chair back for her.
"All of it", Kara whispers, as Lena is sitting down - and Lena almost tumbles down from her seat.
She gazes up in shock, and Kara giggles, a light blush dusting her cheeks.
She shrugs, her eyes suddenly serious and azure and fixed on Lena through her still crooked glasses.
"You are so worth it, Lena. And I will stay, and show you, until you believe it."
If Lena's heart skips a beat, and if Kara hears it - well, it's nobody's business but their own.