Perfect Lie - Yoonmin

18. Baking Up a Storm

[A/N] I know, this update took a long time. I had to take some time off to focus on uni, my own mental health and the holidays that are coming up (I'm going  backpacking in Asia!). But I want to say: thank you all for your nice comments! It means the world to me that you are enjoying my words and find comfort in it. I hope you are doing well and if you ever need someone to talk to, you can always send me a message! Enjoy this chapter, and hopefully I'll upload the next chapter pretty soon as well!!

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'So if you grab the butter, I'll preheat the oven, alright? Yoongi doesn't wait for my reply and walks to the oven only to start vigorously pushing buttons. Alright, so I guess we're doing this.

I almost want to completely ignore what's happening right now; make it some sort of outer body experience, just so I don't have to be in the moment. If there's anywhere I want to be right now, it's definitely not a place that involves baking, sugar, butter, flour, chocolate, and the prospect of eating that hell.

Sure, Yoongi is here, which is a great relief and comfort, but still...

With dreaded tred, I walk towards the kitchen counter, where Yoongi's laptop displays a recipe for cupcakes, accompanied with a photo showing the sugary bakes of doom. Yay.

I don't hate baking. In fact, I love it! Partly because I'm interested in everything that revolves around food. It is as if my mind automatically focuses on the nearest resource of nourishment. Whenever someone eats a sandwich across the canteen: I notice. When someone opens a pack of cookies somewhere in the train: I notice. I love to bake beautiful stuff and be around food all the time: as long as I don't have to eat it myself.

I try to trick my brain in thinking that's also the case today: I'll just bake the cupcakes and think of an excuse later why I can't eat them. I'll tell Yoongi I'm lactose intolerant, I have to catch a bus, an emergency call... or maybe I'll just turn the oven up really hot 'by accident' so that they'll burn. The thought almost convinces me... almost.

As I scan the list of ingredients, which is way too long for my confort, I spot butter as the next ingredient and walk towards the refrigerator to grab the package. Yoongi, in the meantime, has started weighing the flour.

'Here', he hands me the bowl where he has already put the flour in, so that I can weight the butter in the same bowl.

With trembling fingers I cut off a tiny piece of butter, desperately trying to not go over the 100 grams indicated in the recipe.

'20 grams' shows the display. Immediately my head starts calculating. 10 grams is 84 calories, so 20 is 168 already... and it has to go up to 840 calories in total.

Slice by slice, I add tiny amounts of butter to the bowl, with the number ever growing.

'74... the scales can't be right' I mutter to myself. This must already be at least 103.

'What did you say?' asked Yoongi from across the kitchen. 'Nothing', I reply hastily, and I remove the bowl from the scales. I won't add any more butter, this is definitely enough.

It goes the same way for the rest of the ingredients: I measure an ingredient, put in too little because I'm sure the scales are not right, and Yoongi works on the other side of the working bench.

'Oh I'll do it!' I quickly walk towards Yoongi, who's trying to open a pack of sugar, and take it from his hands to measure it myself. You never know how much other people put in your food, he'd probably just throw in more. It's better if I do it myself.

I can feel Yoongi's eyes on me whilst I throw in the cacao powder that I grabbed of the counter just before he could reach for it. I know I'm taking control of everything, but that's how I like it. Even though I cannot even trust myself.

With all the ingredients weighed, mixed, put in their cupcake cases and in the oven, I finally find some peace in my head. It's alright, I can rest for at least 25 minutes now.

Without speaking, we start putting away the ingredients and cleaning the utensils. However, as I'm not familiar yet with Yoongi's kitchen, I have to ask where every single ingredients should be placed, which takes double as long as if Yoongi would have put everything away himself.

'Where does the flour go?' I ask him, holding up the pack to him as if I need to show him that I, in fact, am actually holding flour.

'In the cupboard with the broken knob', he replies and points towards a cupboard above my head where the knob is loosely hanging off.

'Okay!' I happily say, and dash towards the cupboard, cherishing all the exercise I can get. I lift the package above my head, as if I'm weight lifting (maybe it'll impress Yoongi), reach towards the loose knob and...

Smash.

A cloud of flour fills the air surrounding me. The package lays in a sad pile of its own containment on the floor. The rest of what's not on the floor has found its way into my hair, my 'black' jeans, which were now a fine gray colour, and literally every other surface of the kitchen within my direct reach.

'I... I'm sorry'. I mutter, examining the drama I not only caused for myself, but also for Yoongi.

His brows are furrowed and the corners of his mouth in an angry position. Then he starts laughing. 'Look at your face!' Yoongi bangs the kitchen counter with one hand, whilst pointing in the direction of my face with the other. 'You. look. amazing!' He sputters out in between hysterical laughing fits.

'Wait what?' I quickly grab my phone, which is now also covered in flour due to my white hands, and turn on the front camera to see the damage.

And yes, damage has been done.

'You. look. like. Voldemort!' Yoongi pants breathlessly, still holding a gummy smile on his face.

'Oh yeah? See how you look with even less colour on your pale skin!' I whisper with a smirk. I quickly bend over, cup some flour into my hand from the ground, and flick it into his face.

'Pwugh urgh GROSS!'

Immediately the smile leaves his face and he starts spitting out the flour that came into his mouth.

Now it's my turn to have a wave of frantic laughter: he looks so ridiculous! Every inch of his face and hair is covered in the white dust. A ghost. He tries to wipe it from his eyes and nose, but only makes it worse. However, he sets up confident smile, as if this was his intention all along.

'Luckily I didn't lose my cool'. He straightens his jacket and pouts his lips slightly.

'Can't lose what you never had', I remark sarcastically, which I immediately follow up by ducking under the counter as Yoongi grabs a handful of flour, ready to catapult it into my face.

The flour war has begun.

After a solid five minutes of flicking flour whilst chasing the other shrieking and shrilling, we reach a point where both of us end up in a pose opposite of each other, staring each other in the eyes, both a good amount of flour as ammunition.

'Truce?' I say with a low voice and serious face, trying to sound intimidating but failing because of the coughing that follows my words due to the particles in the air.

'Sure, truce', Yoongi replies as he throws the flour in his hand onto the ground.

'Can we maybe get cleaned up? The flour is itching so bad', I giggle, shaking my jumper and immediately releasing a new cloud of dust.

'Sure, you go shower', Yoongi says, smile still plastered on his face. I'll try and clean this mess'. He pauses and winks. 'Unless you want me to join you?'

I can feel my face turn red instantly. Luckily the flour covers up some of the blush.

'I don't think that will be necessary, Mr Min, I can wash myself perfectly fine, thank you', I manage to say without too much stuttering.

'Let me know if you change your mind', he winks again, and points me the direction of the shower