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You armed yourself with the ingredients to make French toast. You weren’t a world-class chef by any means, but after discovering that your boyfriend had somehow gone his entire life without trying you couldn’t make it for him. What better to spend your day off than with the hero of Megapolis? So after inviting him over to your apartment, you got to work getting the supplies together for the both of you (since he insisted on helping make it), to make some.
You grabbed a loaf of bread from the cabinet, watching as your boyfriend struggled to crack the eggs. You grimaced as he let small shell pieces fall into the mixture below. He might’ve been able to make good noodles, but you were certain he couldn’t make his way around a kitchen. He looked down at the liquid with a pensive gaze, pulling the stray shell pieces out of the mix. You sneezed when he put a huge puff of cinnamon onto the round plate. It floated on top of the batter in small clumps, far too much than your recipe called for. You wiped the excess off of your shirt, frowning a bit.
“MK I said shake the bottle once, you drowned it in cinnamon.” You coughed a couple of times, hitting your chest to get the spice out of your system. “That’s way too much.”
“Sorry, I must’ve overshot it a bit.” He smiled, sheepishly.
“That’s fine, just be a bit more careful next time. You don’t want it to be too spicy do you?” You opened the bread bag and grabbed a few slices before setting them aside.
“Cinnamon is spicy?” He was such an idiot sometimes, but you loved that about him.
“You’re only saying it because you've never tasted it raw before.” You explained, “If I remember correctly some people got sent to the hospital for eating a spoonful of the stuff. Apparently, it’s really potent in large quantities.”
“What kind of idiot would eat it by itself?”
“You’d be surprised.” You poured some vanilla extract into the batter, careful not to put too much. “People do all sorts of dumb stuff online.” You swiftly grabbed a fork and carefully whisked the eggs and milk, creating a rich golden base for the toast.
“But why though?” MK asked, throwing away the eggshells. “It doesn’t seem worth it.”
“There’s a lot of reasons for it, it’s the main reason the internet can be a dangerous place most of the time.” You walked over to the fridge to grab butter for the pan. “People are mostly anonymous online, the lack of immediate consequences makes it easy to lose yourself.” You shut the fridge door and walked back to the pan. “That, and attention can be a huge motivator to do stupid stuff, some people like whether it’s positive or negative.”
“That’s fair, I like attention too.” You looked over to see your boyfriend staring intently at you, as though waiting for something. You sighed and gave him a quick peck on the cheek, not using your hands for fear of ruining his shirt.
“That was barely anything!”
“I didn’t want to make you dirty, I still got cinnamon all over my hands.” You used one hand to point to the other, “Plus, your shirt is white, it’ll show more.”
“We’re not going anywhere though, this is supposed to be our day off!”
“At least let me finish our food first, I haven't made half of it.” You cut a piece of butter and put it in the pan, turning the heat on afterward.
“Okay…” He whined, getting to work and putting the ingredients away. He suddenly perked up when he remembered something, “Hey, do you remember how we met?” He said, dragging the word “met” out.
“How could I forget?” You joked, moving the pan around as the butter started to melt. “You delivered my noodles exactly a minute late and despite the 30 minutes or its free rule I still paid full price for it.”
“Do you remember what I did afterward?”
“Yes hun, you wrote the number on the receipt.” You dipped a piece of stale bread into the batter, “You’re very charismatic MK.”
“I know I just wanted to make sure you remembered.”
“You’re so cocky,” You laid the soaked bread onto the pan, listening as the bread sizzled, slowly becoming a golden brown—the sound adding to the cozy atmosphere you both built. Once the bread had cooked enough you flipped it in the pan, silently celebrating when it landed perfectly.
“You’re really good at this,” MK said, both your eyes meeting at the pan. “And I’m not cocky, just confident.” He leaned against the counter, not helping his case at all.
“Those are nearly synonyms.” You smiled, flipping the toast onto a plate. You held the plate for MK to witness. “And that is how you make good French toast. You think you could manage to make one?”
“I’m not gonna screw it up [Name],” He grinned, soaking a piece of bread, “I know what I’m doing.”
“Really? Because you look like you're waterboarding that slice.” You pointed to the bread he was using, sure enough, he’d been soaking for far too long. When he pulled it out it fell apart. You handed him another slice, which he begrudgingly took. “You need to be more careful, move the bread around to make sure every part gets batter on it. Otherwise, it won't cook properly.”
“Alright…” He grumbled, but he did take your advice this time around, moving the bread so it got soaked right. He laid the bread onto the pan, wincing when he heard the loud hissing sound.
“Right, now we just wait a minute or two for it to cook, then you flip it over.” You explained, grabbing a timer from the counter and setting it. It was a gift Sandy had given you, and you’d found yourself using it more than with your phone.
“Could I flip it?” MK made a flipping gesture with his hands, pretending to hold a pan.
“I think it’s better if we use the spatula, otherwise it might fall on the ground.”
“I think you’re doubting my skills.”
“I’m not doubting you MK, but fighting giant kaiju monsters isn't the same as risking getting eggs on my floors, y’know?” You shrugged, “But if you want to insist.”
“I’ll be careful, I promise. I won't drop the toast I promise!” He put his hands together and you could've sworn you saw sparkles forming around him, you sighed and signaled the go-ahead. As though it were sentient the alarm went off right on time, letting MK get the opportunity to flip it.
He grabbed the handle of the pan and, to your surprise, managed to land it directly in the center.
“Oh, I guess I should've trusted you.”
“Yep, nothing’s too hard for the Monkie Kid!” He boasted, flipping the toast a second only to miss the pan. You managed to catch the toast with a stray plate and flopped it back into the pan.
“You were saying?”