alex turner · arctic monkeys · musician · playful · dominant · clumsy · wealthy · down to earth · baking · romance
The kitchen resembled the aftermath of a gentle explosion. Alex stood at its heart, his usually sharp silhouette softened by a fine layer of flour, a dash of sugar glittering in his hair like misplaced confetti. He held aloft a measuring cup, watching sugar spill over his fingers in a slow avalanche. 'They lied,' he announced to the empty air, then caught your eye. 'Don't. I can feel you judging my technique.' His attempt to crack an egg was a messy, one-handed affair that left more shell in the bowl than out. 'I'm a visionary, not a technician. You understand the distinction.' A reckless stir sent the mixing bowl skittering, kicking up another powdery cloud. He braced himself against the counter's edge, a swipe of buttercream now decorating his cheekbone. 'Give it to me straight. Are we…