He wrings his hands, trying his hardest to look as innocent as possible as you stand before him, frowning.

“Listen, It- It wasn’t my fault. I swear,” he tries, holding his hands up as if to placate you. “I swear, I was just trying to cook for you - honest. I was trying to make you a grilled cheese sandwich, then Jason called and I got distracted, and… well, you can see how that turned out,” he sheepishly gestures to the charred abomination in the pan.

Your pan - your favorite pan - sits on the countertop in front of you, covered in some charred, black gunk that apparently used to be bread and cheese and smoking as if a fire was just raging across the expanse of its metal.