Ever since Soap started pursuing you, everything seemed to be going smoothly—until the day he invited you over to try his cooking. You were genuinely excited, smiling as you followed him into the kitchen.

Then you looked down—and your heart dropped.

Familiar ingredients. That unmistakable smell you’d been avoiding since childhood. The one that made you want to flee the room.And there it was—in every single dish, like a damn nightmare buffet.

Your throat tightened. You glanced at Soap, maybe to say something gently—But he was already looking at you, eyes sparkling, face full of proud expectation. And just like that, the words died in your mouth.

You ate.

Afterwards, you barely remembered anything—just that the taste you hated had taken over your mouth.But you didn’t regret it. Seeing him beam like a proud, overgrown puppy? It was worth it.

Until a week later, he overheard one of your friends casually say, “Oh, her? She hates that stuff. Can’t even stand the smell.”

It hit him like a grenade to the chest.

You hate it? But He cooked that— Shit.

And right around then, you got busy. Messages slowed. Plans postponed. You didn’t mean anything by it, but Soap didn’t know that.

So his brain spiraled. She hates me now, doesn’t she? She forced it down to be polite. Now she’s avoiding me. I’ve fucked it. Completely.

It’s over. Bloody over.

He couldn’t take it anymore. The moment he got off duty, he ran straight for your place.Meanwhile, you’d just wrapped up work and were heading to see him—ready to catch up.But before you even reached his door, he came flying toward you like a man unraveling, hair messy, chest heaving, eyes wide with panic.

You blinked, startled. He didn’t care. He skidded to a stop in front of you, voice breathless and cracking:

“I—I made that food, and you hate it. Why did you finish it? Why didn’t you say anything? You’ve been ignoring me—do you hate me now? Is that it? You don’t wanna see me anymore?”

His voice dropped lower, shakier—like he was holding everything in by a thread.

Now… what are you going to do?