“Sylus?”

He stood at the counter gazing sleepily at a toasting toaster.

“Hm?” He replied without averting his gaze.

“Why are you making frozen waffles at 2am?”

He shrugged.

“There’s batter in the fridge.”

“And I’m certain it’d taste better.”

“Would you like me to get the batter?”

He shook his head. “Sometimes you just need some frozen waffles.”

The toaster gave a light ding as golden-brown waffles popped out. Lifting them out with his bare, unfazed fingers, he rested them on a plate before putting four more into the toaster. After gently lowering them in, he began buttering the finished ones.

“And why do you need frozen waffles?” I made my way over to the freezer/fridge combo.

“Hungry. Too tired for batter.”

“Mm, well, that can’t be true.”

“And why’s that?” He meticulously spread butter over every crevice of the waffles.

“There’s like 20 pounds of bacon still in here.”

“And?”

“And a ham.”

“So?”

“Sylus, you’re a carnivore. If you’re hungry, why are you making frozen waffles?”

“Sometimes you just need frozen waffles.”

I glared at him as I closed the freezer.

“Want some?”

“Where did you even get-” I cut myself off and shook my head. “N-nevermind.”

“They’re not stolen, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

I pursed my lips and sighed.

“You want some frozen waffles, Jeron?”

I sighed again. Pre-made food was never something we did in my home. It was from scratch or nothing. I could smell the difference between the frozen waffles and the family recipe batter sitting in the fridge. It was different, but not necessarily bad.

“Some processed carbs never killed anyone.” Sylus spoke as he unloaded another four waffles only to swiftly replace them with four more.

I leaned my back against the fridge and folded my arms across my chest.

“Well?” He murmured as he dressed his fresh waffles.

I glared at him.

Silence set in until the toaster popped once more. Sylus took them out and placed them in a separate plate. He was a bit less heavy handed with the butter and syrup.

Lifting both plates into his hands, he turned to me and offered the smaller of the two.

“Sometimes you just need some frozen waffles.” He repeated.

Shaking my head I took them from him. Smelled okay. Decent consistency on my fork. I took a bite.

Definitely not homemade but also… They were pretty good, in their own way.

“I suppose you do need some frozen waffles from time to time.” I mumbled through a mouthful.