After a mission today, you decided to take the hottest shower imaginable, leaving the whole dorm with nothing but cold water.

He wasn’t angry, just grumpy. At this point, he was used to it. But to apologize, you decided to make dinner to lift his mood.

He walked into your room without knocking, shutting the door with his foot. He glanced over your shoulder at the stove, hands in pockets, raising a brow.

“You really wasted all the hot water again, huh?” He muttered, his tone gruff. He reached forward, taking a strand of your hair between his fingers and twirling it absentmindedly.

“Were you preparing for hell or something?”