16 | professional bug killer

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"[Name]?!"

You jumped out of your skin in surprise as Seven's panicked voice rang through the apartment. Immediately, you zoomed out of the kitchen, mixing bowl in hand and apron tied loosely around your waist, patches of flour covering your clothes. In one hand was the bowl, and the other was a wooden spoon.

Frightened and aware that something dangerous could be happening, your heart raced and adrenaline flooded through your veins as you came face-to-face with Seven.

"What is it? What's wrong?" You asked nervously, preparing yourself for bad news again.

However, as soon as you revealed yourself and stepped out of the kitchen, Seven's tensed shoulders visibly relaxed and he looked weirdly relieved. Then, as if remembering that he was supposed to be irritated with you, started frowning again and backing away to his spot in the corner of the room.

"Nothing..." he mumbled, sounding slightly embarrassed from his outburst. "I couldn't see you anywhere and thought... never mind. Just tell me if you're leaving the room for something, okay?"

You were speechless from this. Seven had simply panicked and worried for your safety because you weren't in the same room as him. Is this how he reacted when you left the apartment and he watched you on the CCTV? No—you weren't in danger then, but you imagined his response was a muted version.

"Oh... well, sure..." you agreed, nodding your head. You could understand his anxiety for you being out of sight, and you tried to be sympathetic for how much he was shouldering at the moment.

Seven's eyes glanced over your clothing, finally noticing that you had been in the kitchen making something. Despite wanting to maintain distance, it seemed like he couldn't contain his curiosity. "What are you doing, anyway?" He asked, gesturing to the flour-stained clothing that you wore.

You looked down, a silly smile appearing on your face. "Oh... I'm making pancakes," you explained with a small chuckle, "they always make me feel better if I'm feeling stressed. I thought that maybe you'd like some, too."

"Pancakes..." Seven repeated. He shook his head and sighed loudly. "You're so strange."

You didn't see this as an insult anymore. It was like Seven was trying to convince himself that you were unappealing personality wise, but you spotted the dusting of red on his face that proved him wrong. Even if his words were cruel and harsh, he couldn't hide his true feelings for you.

Seven returned back to his usual spot, and you headed back into the kitchen.

You continued mixing away at the batter, humming cheerfully to yourself to a song that you couldn't remember the words to. You enjoyed making American-styled pancakes—thick ones gathered in a tasty stack. You had a huge sweet tooth, so of course you had honey to add to the treat. You would normally have fresh fruit to pair alongside it, but you weren't sure how Seven would feel about you leaving the apartment by yourself, and you guaranteed that he wouldn't want to go with you, either.

You were just thankful that you had bought some honey a few days prior to these events.

A sudden movement caught your attention. You whipped around in time to see something scurry across the floor. It was fast, small, and most obviously a bug of sorts.

You shrieked loudly as the little bastard scurried towards you, charging with the purpose of striking fear into your heart. Without thinking, you jumped up onto the counter, effectively knocking the frying pan and mixing bowl to the floor at the same time. Batter mixture went flying everywhere, splattering across the cabinets and on your clothes, and then along the floor.

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