43 | i was wrong

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Jungkook's POV

As soon as classes end, I make a quick drive to the supermarket to grab all the ingredients needed to make Elena her favorite meal for tonight's date. I also bought some wine that would suit her preference. Since I have little to no experience in the cooking department, I search for recipes on the internet and finally choose one out of the thousand links that Google provides. After gathering all the ingredients and the appropriate pots and trays on the marble counter, I preheat the oven, setting it to 190 degrees. My hands are sort of shaky as I turn the switch and anxiety rushes over me because I want this first date to be unforgettable. I know its not gonna be perfect, but I will try my best to make this experience enjoyable and hopefully this will earn me extra points. This is the first time I'm using the oven for crying out loud. I'd burn my fingers in this kitchen for her if it means bringing a smile on her face.

I try my best to cook the sausage and the ground beef in medium heat until this brownish shade appears. I hope this dish doesn't turn into charcoal, because I don't want to embarrass myself in front of my (maybe) soon-to-be girlfriend. I hope she says yes to being my girlfriend. I proceed with the filling some tomato paste, crushed tomatoes and water while the meat is still cooking then I season the meat with sugar, basil, salt and pepper. I put the lid over the pot and stir it every several minutes for about one and a half hour so that the meat or the tomato sauce doesn't stick on the bottom of the pot. That would be troublesome to clean afterwards.

I turn on the stove, then fill the large steel pot with water. I add some salt to quicken the process (according to Google) and as soon as small bubbles rise to the surface I finally toss the lasagna noodles inside. I let the pasta cook for precisely nine minutes because I don't want the pasta to turn too soft, to the point it melts like butter in your mouth, or too hard because I don't want to serve her a raw dish. I drain the noodles then rinse them with cold water, my hands instantly turn red with the abrupt temperature alterations but I don't let that distract me. I grab a mixing bowl and combine ricotta cheese with an egg, some parsley and salt then arrange the fresh boiled noodles inside the tray and paint them with the new mixture I just made. After adding the meat sause I decide to put a delicious combination of parmesan and mozzarella cheese and then continue arranging the lazagna layers until the noodles finish and the tray is filled up completely. I cover the contents of the tray with foil as I make sure it doesn't touch the cheese then slowly and carefully place the large tray inside the preheated oven. I set a timer for twenty five minutes and during that time I make a Ceasars salad as an appetizer. I really hope she'll like this. I'm all sweaty and to be honest this entire procedure was tiring yet the ending result is kind of fulfilling.

The timer on my phone blasts an acoustic guitar ringtone signifying that time's up. I rush over to the oven and open it. I take some towels and retrieve my precious masterpiece. It smells heavenly all meaty and fresh and parsley. I remove the foil only to reveal the most delicious golden and yellow shades the noodle has inherited in such a short amount of time. The meat looks cooked from the side and the tomato sauce is making my taste buds emit saliva. But my hunger has to wait. Elena is gonna be here in an hour or so and by the time she's here the food will have already cooled off. I run upstairs to take a shower because I reek of mince meat and mozzarella cheese.

Before I jump into the shower I send her a quick text: Just finished making the lazagna for you Eye Candy. Hope you're hungry

I take a quick warm shower and I get out of my bathroom with a white towel wrapped around my torso. Then I dry my hair and pace to the walking closet. My reflection is on display on the huge mirror showing all of the imperfections that are carved on my chest. Pink lines that have inherited a soft and smooth texture over the years cover the area of my chest starting from my collarbones all the way down to my abdomen. Everytime I look at those scars I remember all the pain and the dark history they hold and it makes me want to look away. These marks make me weak. I don't mind other people seeing them as long as they don't ask me how I got them. It is the one secret I have never shared with anyone. My father doesn't even know I have them whereas my stepmother and her children have had their suspicions yet they never cared about me so they kept quiet. Besides, I preferred it that way. I didn't want my father think I was a weakling. It was already enough that my stepmother abused me when he went on business trips telling me that I am not a part of this family and I'm only a mere parasite-a split end that she couldn't wait to get rid off. I'm still the same weak and broken boy. The scars that were carved on my chest by my own hand are my biggest insecurity. The same scars I bear up to this day are concrete proof of my frailty. If anyone were to find out they would be disgusted. Even some of the women I've slept with, were repulsed by the sight of my scars. But not Elena. She is the only one who cared.

I choose a simple white shirt and black jeans and kick inside my worn out Timberlands. I think that this is an appropriate outfit for a first date as I roll the sleeves up. I don't usually wear perfume because intense scents make me dizzy, but I spray the Gucci perfume Taehyung bought me for my birthday last year. The man has an unhealthy obsession with this particular brand. This is the first time I'm using his gift and to be honest the aroma is enticing. I run my fingers through my hair just to make it look a little bouncy as I notice one of my scars on my collarbone poke out my shirt. I button the shirt all the way up as I remember Elena being curious about them on her birthday when she saw my chest in normal lighting. This is exactly what I'm trying to avoid. I can't open up about this because she will think of me as someone pathetic and weak.

My phone chimes with a new announcement and I rush over to my bed where I left it. The screen lights up with a text from Elena.

Eye Candy: don't worry, I'm famished😉 I read and my heart skips a beat as I send my reply.

Me: I worked really hard to make the lazagna... I really hope you'll like it..

Eye Candy: it's the thought that counts

Me: are you implying that there's a slight possibility that my incredible dish could suck??🤔🤔

Eye Candy: [...] She must be typing a long message.

Eye Candy: no, you dork😒 I'm saying that you offering to cook for me on our first date is the most important thing. So stop jumping into foolish conclusions this quick. I'm sure that the lazagna you made will be amazing.

I grin to myself like a five-year old as I run downstairs and put the food in the oven in order to maintain the lazagna' warmth until she arrives.

Me: hold that last thought.

Me: you might even finally accept being my girlfriend because of my incredible cooking skills 😎

Eye Candy: don't be pushy jungkook... I'll give you my answer on Friday

Pushy? Am I really being pushy? The last thing I want right now is to seem forceful or badgering. After everything I've done to her she deserves time.

Me: I'm sorry, I didn't want to pressure you

Eye Candy: it's okay... I want to be with you too.

I almost drop my phone when I finish reading that text. I wish I could actually hear her saying that to me up close. I want to gaze deep into her deep brown eyes and cradle her in my arms. I want to feel her warmth and plant a kiss on her forehead. That's when the sound of the doorbell echoes in the hallway.

Eye Candy: now hurry your ass to the door. I'm hungry

Laughing to myself because of her sassy and bossy attitude, I gleefully hurry to welcome my girl.

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