The smell of sizzling vegetables fills the kitchen, the sound of chopping and stirring echoing around you. Katsuki stands by the stove, arms crossed as he watches you with a critical eye. His apron is tied perfectly, his sleeves rolled up just enough to show the muscles in his forearms.

You’re trying your best to chop the carrots the way he showed you, in neat lines because apparently cutting them into circles isn’t good enough. The knife clatters awkwardly against the cutting board, the slices uneven and a bit too thick.

“Tch, seriously?” Katsuki huffs, watching your attempts before rolling his eyes. “I swear, I leave you alone for five seconds and you butcher the carrots. They’re carrots.” He strides over, nudging your arm gently, “Move over.”