Chapter 62 ~ Kitchen Disasters

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*A/N :

Please comment !

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3rd Person's POV ~ 

"Oh come on, just one more picture." She begs. "This one will go in the scrapbook." 

"I will wrestle you." He challenges with a smile. "Again.

"And what, lose ?" She raises an eyebrow. "Again ?" 

He flushed pink, contrasting horridly with the hot salmon hue of the laced bonnet. "You distracted me! I would've won if you hadn't!" 

"Bear in mind the way I distracted you." She says mindfully, a growing smirk embracing her usually kind features. "There's plenty more where that came from."

That single statement set it off. You could very well say that it was as if a trigger had been pulled at him. He started to stutter and blush madly, reading the labels of the spices they'd set out along the counter. 

"Sorry, but what's so curious about the details of a tomato ?" She snickers at him when he'd resorted to reading the label off the fresh vegetation. 

"Hm," He clears his throat nervously. "Nothing." 

"Aw, Soft Boy's embarrassed." She coos. He turns sharply to her, trying to glare though neither of them could take him seriously with that damned bonnet on. 

"What did you call me ?" His embarrassment had subsided, his face now enveloping a cocky expression. "Soft Boy, was it ?"

"Got a problem with that," She challenges, grabbing the hem of the apron and pulling him closer, "Soft Boy ?"

"Not at all, Shortie." He smirks, knocking her forehead with the sheer force of his. The pain momentarily took over all of her thoughts, her hands immediately clapping over the area. 

"How do you do that ?" She asks, ignoring his taunting laughter. 

"Are you guys done yet ?" An impatient holler arises from a room. 

"We're getting started." He shouts back. 

"What do you mean 'getting started' ?!"

"I mean that we're getting started !" He repeats, setting a pot above the glass smooth surface of the stove. 

"Spaghetti ?" She guesses when he grabs the packet of long, raw noodles. He nods. 

"What ?" He asks when she hesitates. 

"I suck at cooking pasta." She winces. 

He pats her shoulder, "Not to worry, Shortie, your cooking will come in handy when poisoning our enemies." 

"Good god, I'm not that terrible !"

"You will make a great asset to our army !"

"Oh yeah ? What role would I play ?"

"Offensive."

"How ?"

"You shall make them eat your food."

"For the love of god, would you shut up, Soft Boy ?"

"Only if you agree to poison our enemies, Shortie." 

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Boiling the pasta went surprisingly fine, but then again, it was boiling freaking pasta. There wasn't much they could mess up. 

That was until they got to making the sauce which Jungkook would later realize it was a mistake to ask her to make it. 

"How is it ?" He asks knowingly, both of them laden with aprons. He balances casually on the counter behind him. 

She picks up a spoon and scoops a minuscule amount of tomato sauce from the bowl that a blender had previously wrecked havoc in. 

"Try a little more, you'll just taste metal if you don't." He chuckles.

She ignores him and puts the spoon in her mouth. 

For a moment, silence filled the kitchen. Then, she doubled over and threw the spoon in the sink, gagging with her hand clamped over her mouth. 

He starts to laugh hysterically, soothingly patting her back as she shakes her head in disgust. She's hunched over, her hands pressing her weight on the counter as she mutters, "That was horrible."

"You only tried like a pinch." He laughs, gently tugging her upright at which point she looks slightly proud of herself. 

"With enough of this stuff," She points to the bowl of sauce. "I bet I actually could poison our opponents." 

"That's the spirit !" He laughs, pulling her in front of him to face the stove, his hands kneading through the tension in her shoulders. "Lucky for you, I made a backup just in case." He smiles, jutting his chin to the fresh, much more appetizing red purée to her left. She takes it, setting it aside and checking on the pasta. 

"What if I mess this up too ?" She grins, letting his arm ravel around her shoulder from behind while the other one holds the pot steady. 

"Then you're stuck with me until we make something edible."

"Oh no, not the worst of punishments !" She 'groans', slumping against his shoulder. 

His would-be smile evaporates as his ear perks up at the sound of footsteps. He side-steps her, busying himself with cleaning up the unpeeled garlic cloves right when Jimin comes in. 

"Oh great." He grins. "You're almost done." 

"Yup." Lisa mutters, her long sheet of hair tied into a bun with strands hanging out though it didn't do much of a good job at covering her tinted cheeks. 

"Taehyung got movie tickets." He says. "His dad's friend owns the place and had a bunch of empty seats toda-"

"Why ?" Lisa cuts. "That's the best theater in town, it's always packed." 

"Yeah, but there's supposed to be a thunderstorm tonight. Not many people are going out." 

"Is it safe ?" Jungkook asks wearily. 

"Yeah, storm's not supposed to hit 'till midnight." 

"Cool." He shrugs. With that, Jimin walks back into the dorm, the sound of the lock shutting clear as day. 

For the rest of the time, she seems to be a bit shaken up, and he can't seem to concentrate, his eyes sneaking glances at her distant face every once in a while. 


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