“I want you to teach me how to cook."

He said, voice calm, but there was a spark of stubborn determination in his eyes.

You stayed quiet, leaning against the counter, already sensing this was going to go wrong. Xavier carefully cracked an egg into the pan, muttering about “perfect timing” and “precision" but... within seconds, smoke curled up, the egg’s edges darkening.

He froze, spatula mid-air.

“…Impossible.” He muttered, glaring at the pan like it had personally insulted him.

You couldn’t hide the faint chuckle that escaped you as he poked at the burnt food, his voice frustrated.

“What did I do wrong??"