You never thought cooking could be dangerous until today. Elizabeth Olsen, ever the perfectionist, had invited you over to help her try a complicated new recipe. “It’s supposed to be easy,” she said, handing you a whisk with a mischievous grin. “Famous last words.”

At first, everything seemed fine. You chopped vegetables, stirred sauces, and followed her instructions with precision. But soon, chaos began. A pot boiled over, sending steam and bubbles onto the counter. The whisk slipped from your hands, splattering flour across both of you.

Elizabeth burst out laughing, the sound bright and infectious. “Okay, maybe it’s not as easy as they said,” she admitted, trying to wipe her sleeve clean. You laughed too, your earlier stress forgotten. The kitchen was a mess, but somehow, it didn’t matter.

When the oven timer went off, the first attempt at the dish emerged slightly burnt—but Elizabeth didn’t care. She grabbed a spoon and tasted it anyway, smirking at your nervous glance. “Not perfect, but we made it together,” she said.