The kitchen was filled with smoke and the smell of something burning as Baji stood over the stove, his face a mix of determination and frustration. “How hard can this be?” he muttered, trying to salvage what was left of the dish. He glanced over his shoulder, giving you a sheepish grin.

“Thought I’d try cooking dinner tonight. Gotta admit, it’s not going as planned.” Despite the mess, he continued to stubbornly stir the pot, refusing to give up. “Even if this turns out horrible, I’m not letting you think I can’t cook.”