Gentleman alpha's vicious omega || Taekook

44. Disaster

Jungkook's POV

I was sitting on my office chair, my head leaned back as I thought of everything happened today. My loud laugh echoed in my cabin as I remembered what happened an hour ago. The laugh sounded wicked even to my ears but so damn satisfying. After all, I have been wanting to do that since ever. All the sleepless nights of the last week finally paid. The look on their faces was worth my eyebags. I can't wait to share this with my omega. It's half past three, he is usually free during this time. I pick up my phone and dial his number. To my luck, he picks up in three rings. 

"Sup asshole." I winced at his tone though couldn't help but smile hearing his voice. "Is that how you should greet you husband, sugar?" I teased knowing very well the reason behind his bitterness. His anger was justified but so was my action behind his anger or that's what I thought. If he knew what I thought I won't survive. 

"We both know, if I didn't have work today you would've been not able to move a muscle. for the rest of the week." I would be stupid to not take his threat seriously. Once again, I am pleased with his lack in driving skills.  

The story behind his anger started this morning. He was running late, and I was hungry. The breakfast wasn't cooked yet and I didn't want to survive on fruits or cereals. I am not patient when I am hungry, so I decided to test my luck and fate, and entered the kitchen. He was bathing, no one to safeguard that place so I took the chance and sneaked in. Now, I knew I can't cook for life, but I had to give it a try since entering kitchen without him keeping an eye on me is a golden opportunity that doesn't come often. So, I tried making the easiest dish known to me, an omelet. I had the confidence that there's no way I would ruin it. The recipe looked easy.

But I clearly underestimated my ability to fuck up or overestimated my skills in kitchen. Making an omelet was not the same as draining water from noodles.

Because, while trying to break the egg, I ended up smashing it and the eggshells fell in the mixture. Nevertheless, I didn't give up even though I should have and poured the pale-yellow mixture into the pan. It looked good to eyes, fluffing up, until I remembered the absence salt and pepper. Cursing myself loudly I picked the white and black spice dispensers and sprinkled over it. The chances of mixing were low, yet I wanted to try only to find out my omelet is stuck to the pan like glue. And much less to say, had turned charcoal black on the bottom. 

It didn't end there, it should've, but it didn't. 

To save whatever was remaining in that half-cooked egg, I tried to get it off the pan, but it was stuck to it like a second skin. So, my resolve was since oil acts as a lubricant everywhere, it should work here too. It didn't. Instead, it started smoking. My omelet was smoking because the whole kitchen was filled with smoke. I could foresee my future already. It was as foggy as my vision but then, something happened which made me drop my pan and actually scream for help.

The pan caught on fire.

Henceforth, why my omega is ready to bite me at every chance. Safe to say, I am banished from his kitchen. Not like I would ever step in there again. I might die. 

"Come on, sugar-"

"You added sugar instead of salt in your poison." My words long forgotten I tried to remember what I put in my omelet in morning. I was certain it was salt. "But it was salt! It was white-"

"Salt shines...sugar doesn't. That was sugar." It made me realize nothing but how I am going to die of hunger in apocalypse if left alone. I can't even cook for life, literally. But lucky me, I have my husband to keep me alive. That doesn't stop me from getting back at him though. "That's why I call you su-"