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These just weren’t turning out right.
Mabu huffed and let the plate plop onto the counter with a sharp clang that made him flinch. He leaned onto the counter, his arms propping him up as he glared down at another failure. Macarons should not be so difficult to make, and the ones at the shop Sara loved so dearly should not elude him so.
A half-eaten box mocked him from across the kitchen, challenging him to try again in hopes that he could recreate the creamy tang of raspberry, or the slight crispness of the shell that protected the soft inside of a baked delight.
It would be so easy to just buy another batch from the shop to give to Sara as her birthday present, but there was no love in that. There was no decor to them either, and as cute a plain macaron looked, it wasn’t enough.
He was thankful that his decorating skills were at the very least improving.
Each failed batch gave opportunity to practice molding the macarons into little kappa. It was funny, how things turned out like that, almost flattering. Sara had been so in love with kappa’s as of late, Mabu wouldn’t be surprised if she ended up being one herself.
That would certainly make these macarons difficult to eat.
Still, he had mastered the craft. Little pink and green macarons with a deeper shade waving on top to imitate the dish that sits on their head, with dyed white chocolate flattened and molded into a beak. If he looked down into the little eyes he had crafted for too long, he would begin to see Reo in them.
He chuckled, how long it had been since they had an adventure like that. He would prefer it too, over the hell he created for himself.
Three different kinds of almond flour consumed his work space, with closed bags of various fillings taking the space that was not white and powdery. Mabu had been at it for three days now, and while it didn’t show in what he was making, it showed just about everywhere else, especially on his patience.
He was exhausted, for starters, which only made his attempts shoddier. Knowing that made him boil over with frustration. There simply wasn’t the time to rest, Sara’s birthday was less than a week away and it took far too long to create a single batch of macarons. He wasn’t going to have any kind of present for her if he stopped for too long.
With the apartment to himself though, he thought it may be good to allow himself to sit with his emotions. Baking anything while being this upset was going to be worse than if he were simply tired.
Mabu took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and reveled in a silence that he hadn’t heard in a long time.
“We’re back!”
Yeah, that seemed about right.
Before he could open his eyes, he felt arms wrap around his waist and a kiss on top of his head.
“Smells great in here.” Reo said, and laughed when, Mabu assumed, he saw that state of the kitchen. “I guess it isn’t going that great though, huh?”
“Just about as good as the last attempt.”
Mabu finally opened his eyes when he felt an arm pull away, and saw Reo grab for one of his most recent failures. Dread filled his chest, and he felt himself curl up slightly when Reo took a bite, but the gentle tug of the other arm still around him prevented him from being able to leave.
“I dunno, I think you’re getting better at this.” Reo grabbed for another. “They’re not all gooey anymore, and they taste amazing!”
Despite the praise, or maybe because of it, Mabu felt his frustration flare up again.
“They’re still not good enough.” He said through grit teeth. His body tensed, felt a fist clench, and he refused to look up at Reo.
“I know you’re determined to replicate the ones at the shop,” Reo began, letting go of his grip around Mabu completely and grabbing for his shoulders instead to encourage him to turn around. Mabu, albeit reluctantly, complied. “But you don’t have to push yourself so hard. They’re good, really! I think Sara would be happy eating your macarons. Your stuff always tastes better when you’re putting your own twist on it, anyways.”
“That’s right, dish!” Sara chirped behind them, at some point having snuck her way into the kitchen.
Tears welled up in his eyes and streamed down his face before he could catch himself. The panicked look on Reo’s face made him laugh, which probably looked more like a sob as more tears made their way down.
“Mabu c’mon you don’t have cry!” Reo was nearly frantic, his hands hovering over Mabu like it was him who did something wrong. “C’mon for real I didn’t mean to upset you! I just…think you’re a really great cook…you don’t have to keep replicating everything.”
“No, you’re fine,” Mabu sniffed, reaching up and put his hand on top of the one hovering above his shoulder. “I’m just…tired. Thank you, Reo.”
Reo’s cheeks turned pink at that, and he placed his hands back on Mabu’s shoulders. “Well…yeah. You know.” He mumbled eloquently. He had calmed down though, and gave Mabu a bashful smile. “How about you take a break,” his hands slid down to Mabu’s arms, pulling him in to kiss where another tear rolled down his cheek “and I can help you with the next batch, yeah?”
Mabu nodded, and felt a tug at his apron. Looking down, he saw Sara with big eyes and open arms inviting him in for a hug. He happily accepted, Reo pulling away so Mabu could lift her up into his arms. She clung to his chest, and hugged tight, and finally he could feel himself properly calm down.
She craned her head up to kiss his cheek, dispelling the last of his tears. He kissed her back on the head, and allowed Reo to guide the both of them to the living room.