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When Firefly and Stelle moved into a new apartment together, Firefly opted to become the “housewife” of the duo, being responsible for all the cleaning and cooking. Stelle, working a corporate job, became the breadwinner while also being responsible for budgeting, hardware maintenance, and other matters. It was an arrangement that worked out pretty well and they were able to get by…
…until the day Firefly became ill.
The first night Firefly was bedridden, Stelle took over the household tasks. While she was able to handle the cleaning with ease, her cooking turned out to be a complete disaster. With her cooking skill (or the lack thereof), the end result that night was a greasy abomination made up of various materials sourced from Aeon-knows-where. It was enough to make any living being within a 300m radius develop suicidal ideations, yet Stelle opted to present her creation to Firefly anyway since it was “made with love and the blessing of Akivili”.
“It tasted so…delicious,” Firefly remarked after taking her first bite. An obvious lie, masked by the smile on her face as she struggled not to vomit in front of her girlfriend, yet it was enough to make Stelle’s eyes sparkle.
“Is that so? I’m glad you enjoy it!” No doubt Stelle was proud of her creation, as flawed as it was. That was one thing Firefly really liked about Stelle. She wanted to offer some constructive criticisms on the food, being the one with a decent knowledge of the culinary art. Not wanting to spoil Stelle’s mini-celebration however, she decided to try finishing her dinner first.
“I’m glad you took the time to make something for me while I’m sick,” Firefly said upon taking her second bite.
Stelle nodded. “Although I feel like I could have done a much better job making it. I’m not much of a chef, after all.”
“Nonsense!” Firefly rebutted, not wanting Stelle to feel self-conscious about her ability. Her body seemed to disagree, as she could feel her stomach already churning. “It was not the greatest thing I have tasted, but at least we didn’t have to spend money on takeouts. Anything homemade by you would be a lot better than the expensive corporate slops these days.”
Probably.
“In that case, do you have any tips on how I could be better at cooking?” Stelle inquired, hoping to learn from the expert.
It was Firefly’s turn for her eyes to sparkle. “Of course! I think for the dish you made, the first thing you need to do is—”
It didn’t take long for Firefly’s stomach to decide enough was enough. Before either of them knew it, the two bites Firefly took ended up on the blanket Firefly was under. Much to Stelle’s disappointment, the discussion on how to improve her cooking skill was unceremoniously cut short as she rushed to bring over some paper towels to clean up the mess before throwing the blanket into the washer. The couple ended up having takeouts for the rest of the week until Firefly recovered which, to no one's surprise, ate up a significant portion of their budget for rent. Firefly vowed to never let Stelle use the kitchen again.
One lazy Saturday morning, Firefly woke up to what seemed to be the smell of soup. Or at least that was how her sense registered it. Mind still hazy from the “activities” she did with Stelle the previous night, she assumed that the smell was just a figment of her imagination, a leftover from the dream she had.
“Hmm do you smell that Stelle?” Firefly murmured, still sleepy. “The aroma is quite strong yet pleasant. Maybe we should go to that restaurant today.”
There was no response.
“Oh right, you’re probably still asleep. Silly me.”
Firefly turned over to face Stelle’s side of the bed, moving her arms to reach her girlfriend's waist. Instead of the warm, soft mass she was expecting, she only encountered nothing but air. She have always done this to Stelle first thing in the morning ever since they moved in together, thus such an unusual discrepancy to their routine caused her to open her eyes, and she discovered herself alone in bed.
“…Stelle?” Firefly slowly sat upright, rubbing her eyes in the process. She took a quick look around the room, only to not find the silly raccoon anywhere. She could still smell the soup coming from the little crack of the bedroom door, and figured that someone was currently cooking it in the kitchen. But if that was the case, and Stelle was not in the bed with her, then…
“Oh no!”
Firefly still remembered Stelle’s disastrous attempt at cooking not so long ago, and how she promised to not let her cook again. She quickly got up, got dressed, then rushed over to the kitchen. She was expecting a chaotic scene typical of someone who didn’t know what they were doing. Worst case scenario, the kitchen would burn down and she would have to call the fire department. Firefly hoped that it doesn't come down to that.
The moment Firefly peaked her head through the kitchen door, she found a messy kitchen alright. Food ingredients scattered around the counters flanking both sides of the stove, dirty dishes and utensils in the sink, and a giant pot full of boiling soup on top of the stove itself. She also noticed the stacks of cookbooks as well as handwritten notes on the counters. At least there was no fire or smoke in the vicinity. And in front of it all was Stelle, wearing an apron covered with soup stains, who noticed Firefly peeking in and smiled while doing a cute little wave with her ladle.
It became clear to Firefly now.
"I see you are trying your hands in cooking once more?" Firefly inquired as she entered the kitchen, albeit still suspicious of Stelle's intention.
"Indeed, it's a craft I've been refining for a few month now," Stelle replied proudly.
"A few months?" Firefly suddenly found herself scratching her head. She had been home most of the time while Stelle was out working. She could not recall any moment Stelle was in the kitchen making food — save for that one time back when she was sick. Even if Stelle somehow ended up using the kitchen without Firefly's knowledge, she had a habit of leaving behind a few traces of her presence —willingly or not— thank to Firefly's keen senses.
"Yep, I've been taking some cooking classes every day after work," Stelle said. "I had to keep it a secret though, just to maintain an element of surprise."
"An element of surprise?" Firefly's attitude slowly switched from suspicion to curiosity. "What for?"
"Why isn't it obvious?" Stelle pointed to the calendar that was attached to the refrigerator. The calendar was mostly unmodified save for the one date which was hastily circled in red. "Today just happened to be the fifth monthiversary of our move-in!"
"The fifth…what?" Firefly initially wasn't sure what Stelle meant by that, but then suddenly remembered. "Oh right, it's really been five months since we moved in. But why pick the 5th month as the milestone?"
"I mean I could wait until the half-anniversary, but I'm worried my skills would become super rusty by then."
"You only have to wait just a month longer…"
"Exactly."
Stelle poured a bit of soup into a small cup to hand to Firefly. “Wanna taste?"
Firefly decided to give Stelle the benefit of the doubt. "Sure, I would love to," she said, accepting the cup of soup and taking a small sip. She steeled herself for any unpleasant taste she may encounter, but contrary to her expectation, it was the exact opposite. The soup tasted… surprisingly good. Or at least as good as an inexperienced cook could get. She tried to figure out what kind of broth was used. Chicken? It was probably chicken. The soup was also creamy, perhaps too creamy, with a hint of cheese. Maybe Stelle added in a bit too much cheese. One thing she noticed in particular was the lack of spice, which wasn't all too surprising for her. Bland, yet creamy — not too bad for a rookie.
"Huh it actually tastes pretty nice," Firefly said, much to Stelle's delight. She then took a second sip just to confirm her theory. Bland, yet creamy, but at least it didn't make her want to puke. "You have certainly improved, that's for sure, but I feel it's missing something."
"Ah you're right, my finishing touch", Stelle said right before suddenly leaning in for a kiss in the mouth, leaving Firefly completely flustered.
"Stelle, what are you—" Firefly wasn't able to finish her sentence before Stelle's index finger was placed on her lips.
"There's more where that came from,” Stelle replied teasingly, before grabbing Firefly by her hand and pulling her to the bedroom. The last thing that could be heard before the door closed was Firefly warning Stelle about leaving the burner on.