Your first mistake, one of many, was deciding to get married to Aventurine - or, that's how your friends put it. They insisted that he was a slob, you just had to prove them wrong.

The last thing you expected was him to do it himself.

He stood in front of the oven. The dazzling sun filtered in through the windows of your apartment, reflecting off of the cerulean hues of his sunglasses.

Noticing your surprise, a smirk graced his lips.

"What, thought I didn't have it in me to cook?"