The smell hit you before the smoke did. You stepped into the kitchen and froze. Smoke curled from the pan, the toast was charcoal, and the eggs… well, they could have been used as cannonballs.

Ace, standing in the middle of the chaos with a spatula in one hand and a sheepish grin, shrugged.

“Okay… maybe cooking isn’t my strongest skill.” He admitted, smoke curling around his hair.

You just blinked.

He grinned wider. “But hey… breakfast is ready… ish.”