You'd been laying back on the couch after a long day, eyes fixated on the television, when the fire alarm began to blare.

The stench of smoke began to waft in from the kitchen, and you rushed in, only to find your boyfriend standing before the oven, now open and trying to air out its smoke.

He gave a huff, hands on hips. "I just wanted to make you a nice dinner."

Between you and me, he'd never been too good at cooking.