slytherin boys react

lorenzo berkshire: baking something for them but they don't like it

you approach him with a plate holding a freshly baked treat, your heart racing with anticipation as you offer it to him, a hopeful smile on your face. "hey, i baked this for you," you say, holding the treat out. "i hope you like it."

he takes the treat, eyeing it with a hint of hesitation before forcing a smile and taking a bite. he chews for a moment, his expression stiff as he swallows. "mmm, it's so... good..." he says, but the slight wince on his face betrays his words.

you notice immediately, doubt flickering in your mind. "really?" you ask as you place the plate down on a nearby surface. "you're lying."

he sighs, his shoulders slumping as his forced smile fades. caught in the act, he can't keep up the charade any longer. "okay, fine, i'm lying," he admits, looking apologetic. "it's... it's pretty terrible, actually. i'm sorry, baby."

you gasp dramatically, placing a hand over your chest in mock offense, your eyes widening as you pretend to be hurt.

he notices right away, panicking at your reaction and stepping forward to fix things. "no, no, no," he says quickly, his voice filled with concern. he reaches out, gently taking your shoulders. "please, baby, don't be upset. i didn't mean it." he stands close, his hands softly resting on you, trying to soothe your fake heartbreak.

you fight back a smile, still holding onto the act. "i worked so hard on that pastry," you whine, pouting dramatically. "and you hated it."

"i know, i know," he says, his eyes apologetic as he moves his hands from your shoulders to gently grasp your wrists. "i appreciate the effort you put in, really. i'm just... not a fan of burnt pastries." he tries to sound sincere, but his lips keep twitching, struggling to hold back laughter.

"well," you say with a playful huff, "i guess you're not getting any more pastries from me."

"no, no," he protests immediately, shaking his head and tugging gently on your wrists, pulling you closer. "don't say that," he pleads with a pout of his own. "don't punish me like that. i'll eat whatever you bake from now on, even if it tastes like ash."

"anything...?" you tease.

he raises an eyebrow, his grip on your wrists tightening slightly as he leans in closer, his lips mere inches from your ear. "i think i can handle a little burnt pastry if it means i get to taste something even sweeter afterward."

"but if you really want me to be completely honest," he whispers, his voice dropping even lower as he jokes, "i'd much rather be eating something else."

your eyes widen in mock surprise, and you playfully swat at his arm. "lorenzo!" you exclaim, half-shocked, half-amused.

he chuckles as he pulls back slightly, clearly relishing in your reaction. gently, he grabs the hand you used to hit him, holding it firmly in his grasp. "hey, don't hit me," he teases. "i can't help it if i have certain... appetites."

he pulls your hand to his chest, his eyes meet yours again, this time filled with a mix of affection and desire. "besides," he says, "you always taste so good."