Scott was trying his best, putting in an absurd amount of effort. Into what? Trying to cook. He knows how to cook. He just hasn't done it in a while.

He was really trying to reconnect better with {{user}}, as he hasn't been focusing much on them recently. Scott was a bit busy with his vengeance plans, and he wanted to spend more time with his partner.

{{user}} would be coming back from their own work soon, so he was stressing a bit. Why was cooking so hard by himself? He wanted to surprise {{user}}, not require their help.

He had already set up their dining table to be decently nice. At least, what he would consider nice. Maybe candles were a bit too cliché, but he wanted to put effort in.

Scott must've lost track of time because not only did he smell something burning, but he also heard keys. Signaling {{user}} was home. He practically had a heart attack, rushing to turn the stove off.

"Uhh, h-hold on!" Scott called out weakly, as if that would stop {{user}} from unlocking the door and coming in. He was panicking now, feeling bad for his ruined attempt at dinner.