Dirty Dancing with a Goddess

Chapter 9

Your POV:

From the moment we got back, Jimin left all his stuff by the door then limped his way around the house, pulling all curtains shut before eventually holing himself up in his bedroom. Not even bothering with dinner. I may not have known him for too long but his eating schedule is real shit, often days missing breakfast and dinner, always doing work instead.

Should I... 

I glance into the kitchen, seeing the stack of cup instant noodles. 

Tiny quacks draw my attention to our duckling, still in it's makeshift living space, then towards the bag of stuff Jimin bought, all stuff for this random duckling that he could've easily gotten rid off.  

hmmmm... 

-

Okay, don't set his house on fire, deep breaths. I focus on the open cup of instant noodles, now filled with cold water, Jimin has prohibited me touching the hot water dispenser along with several other kitchen appliances, in fact everything actually except the jug of drinking water, which he switched out for a plastic jug recently.

Clearly, I'm very trusted by that man. Note the sarcasm.

So now, I'm trying to channel just a small controlled flame above the water-immersed noodles to cook them. Tiny flame, I can do this.  A warm black mist dances between my fingers, growing deeper in colour as tiny blue sparks start at my fingers. 

Great so far- until a tall vortex of blue shoots up, burning a hole in his kitchen cabinets before I wrangle my hand under control.

...

"Ducky, do you think Jimins gonna notice that?" 

"Quack." 

After another try or two, I finally manage it, a perfectly controlled blue flame that I can manipulate at my will. 

"Ducky, are you seeing this I'm a genius... I'm also talking to a duck, hm."  

It doesn't respond this time, waddling about doing other things while I hold my fingers hovering above the water surface, waiting for it to bubble. 

Everythings done, the noodles are cooked and I've poured in the pack of dried vegetables but still feels like I'm forgetting something but I'm short on time, eh nevermind. They look good enough as is.

- 

I knock on his door and it creaks open, he hadn't bothered to lock it. 

He's not asleep either, changed into his usual home apparel of a t-shirt and shorts as he sits with one leg up on the chair, fingers paused amid typing on his laptop. His mouth curved into an o upon my entry, round-rimmed glasses nearly sliding off his nose before he quickly adjusts them.  

"Uh..." I proudly showcase the instant noodles.

He points to himself, making a noise of surprise. He moves to stand, and thats when I see the gauze dressing on his knee. Gesturing for him to sit back down, I instead walk up to him, holding out the plastic container. His eyebrows furrow as he looks down at the pale noodles, before accepting it and the utensils. 

I've never cooked mortal food... or food in general. There isn't exactly a cooking 101 class in the underworld. Oh, maybe I should bring up the idea so the souls would have something to do as they repent.

The sound of him slurping the noodles interrupts my train of thought.

Is it bad? Is it good? Did I forget something? I keep getting the feeling that I did...

He peers up with his mouth full, amusement dancing within his eyes before a heavy exhale. Every movement of his jaw and the even slower swallowing is nerve wrecking. With a few more large bites he finishes everything, handing me back an empty cup and plastic utensils to be thrown away.