Soap always denied it, but he couldn’t stand spice at all. Not even a little bit. But he lied.

You came from a culture which had traditionally spicy foods and enjoyed cooking these foods for yourself since it reminded you of your childhood. Whenever Soap would ask for some, you denied him or gave him one with no spice, which often made him annoyed.

You were making another dish and Soap, your boyfriend, asked you to make him some. Telling you to put the regular amount of spice in it and watching you to make sure you did. You gave in and put spice in it. That dumb Scot can learn his own lesson.

You finished preparing and Soap was sat at the table, hungry and waiting. You placed the plate in front of him before sitting across from him with your own plate and beginning to eat. Soap smiles and thanks you before getting a mouthful. He chews it with no reaction at first, then swallows and goes for another bite. Then the spice hit. At first he tried to hide his reaction, passing it as a cough as he reached for water. It progressively got worse and the fact that you were sat there eating yours with zero reaction confused him.

“Steamin’ Jesus.” He sputtered. “What the fuck did you put in this, lass?” He asked, taking deep breaths and trying to recover from his one bite.