{exspiravit - } (of a document, authorization, or agreement) come to the end of the period of validity. (of a person) die. (of food) become unedible.}
newt's pov:
Thomas, predictably, complained as he beat the eggs into the pan, scrambling them as they sizzled over the low heat below. "I did not sign up for this job, so why do I have to do this?"
He huffed, mixing in the peas and sweetcorn into the cooking eggs.
"I think y/n was trying to be nice by assigning us this job..." I said, but Thomas was mainly focusing on the pan, and not what I was saying.
"I'm awful at cooking, and she knows that! Did she not tell you the time I tried to make a cake for everyone, mixed up the ingredients accidentally and made everyone sick? We had to cancel the hunt for the following week because none of us could leave the bathroom."
I hadn't heard that story. "What on earth did you put in it?" I said, chuckling.
Tommy prepared the large platter on the table beside the stove, laughing. "I don't know exactly what it was, but Fry said that it was definitely something incredibly expired."
I laughed harder. "Did you eat it too?"
Thomas moved the eggs from the pan onto the platter; I headed over to the counter to help him.
"Yeah, of course. At the time I was like 'this tastes interesting', but I didn't really have much to compare it to so I wondered if that was just what cake tastes like."
I desperately tried to hold back my laughter, but we were both struggling.
"You poisoned the entire camp?"
Thomas laughed back at me. "I didn't mean to, it was a genuine mistake."
We were both crippled with our uncontrollable chuckling. "Did y/n eat it too?" I asked, curious.
Thomas wiped his eyes. "Yeah, she did. I think she was quite sick too. A lot of people were."
Our laughter slowly drew to a close, reality checking in.
"Maybe you shouldn't be the one cooking, actually." I said, moving over to the counter and helping Thomas with the platter of eggs and vegetables.
He sighed at me. "That was three years ago. I'm sure I'll be fine." He replied, gesturing towards the food he had prepared.
I peered back at him. "Why were you making a cake in the first place?"
He thought back to it. "About six months after you 'died', Fry decided that the morale in camp was too low, and that the way to fix that was to hold a dinner party for everyone in camp - a communal meal, if you will." Thomas was placing the dirty pan into the sink, and slowly turning back to me.
"Fry said that if people wanted to, they could bring their own food if they made it in the kitchen at the old camp and brought it to the dinner. I had wanted to bake a cake since I had found this old recipe book while scavenging a few weeks before, so I ended up foraging the ingredients and making it a day before the dinner was supposed to happen. I didn't notice at the time of making it that anything was out of date."
I laughed still. "The gesture was nice, but the execution had a lot to be desired."
Thomas looked back at me, surprised. "That is exactly what y/n said."
Images of her flashed through my mind. Her hands on my body, my body on hers.
Thomas tilted his head. "How are you two doing, anyway? You seem much closer than you were a few months ago."
