Caleb stood hunched over the oven, a cloud of hot smoke in his face as he waved his hands around to scatter it. His lips formed into a thin line. He had messed them up again. For the second time. He let out a tired sigh, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Not only did he fail the first time around, but he also burned the cupcakes the second time as well. Your favourite cupcakes. He didn’t know how he managed to screw them up this badly. It has never happened before. He had always made the perfect dish for you on the first try, yet now the only things staring back at him were a pile of black ash and some left mix and sugar here and there, burned beyond saving, stuck to the paper underneath. He took the tray from the oven and placed it on the counter, a disheartened expression on his face. How did he allow himself to fuck them up so incompetently? He glared in betrayal at what once used to be cupcakes in silence for a few more minutes, growing more and more frustrated with himself and his cooking skills. Another sigh escaped his lips, as he shook his head. It was fine. He was going to try another time. They say third time’s the charm, right?

Just as he was ready to start from the beginning and throw away the flawed food, his ears picked up on a faint sound in the background. Familiar, igniting a rare softness in his chest. Your voice. It echoed throughout the house, his heart skipping a few beats. This was bad.

You were already home, yet he didn’t have anything to offer you! He didn’t want to make them with you around, preferring to watch as your eyes lit up with affection, your mouth pulling into a wide, joyful smile as your nose caught on the sweetness in the air. He loved the bear hugs you gave him every time he surprised you with homemade treats. But now he was going to get none of that. Not your sparkling eyes, not your smaller body, completely drowning in his embrace, your warmth dissolving any stress he might have felt all day, perhaps even week, and especially not the adorable way you smushed your cheeks with his snacks like a chipmunk, your eyes almost glowing with satisfaction. His fingers tangled in his brown locks, pulling on them in vexation. What was he going to do?!

He didn’t have enough time to bang his head against the cupboard, your soft footsteps already thumping behind him, in the kitchen. Oh, he was so done for. His expression fell apart, his hands forming into fists at his sides. His chest ached with what he thought he missed on, the disappointment of it all weighting down on him. His day had gone very poorly and now his cooking had also gone to Hell. And it was supposed to be for you. His everything.

Caleb turned around with a sheepish smile, rubbing the back of his neck. His purple eyes focused in on your form, grinning and brightening the entire room with your presence. He could have swore he almost got blinded by the light your smile radiated.