A Little Mistake Was All I Made ♤Completed♤

Chapter 12

Tords P.o.v

I wake up and Tom is still there, I decide to slip away and make breakfast for him, a task that would be difficult and aggravating, sure but all too rewarding when he wakes up to food.

I stand up on my tippy-toes, the pots, and pans in the very top cupboard, and this was hard even for a tall guy,

when that didn't work out I climbed on the slick counter and got down a frying pan. Finally.

I get down and practically fall, making me squeak. Thank the Lord Tom isn't awake, this is fucking embarrassing.

I place the frying pan on the stovetop and put it on medium I think, and go to make some pancake batter, I mix eggs and flour and some of that good ol' powdered sugar. I decide to throw in some yeast and vanilla flavoring cuz that sounds awesome as fuck.

How did Tom need a class for cooking this is easy!

I put some water in and mix it, getting powder all over the counter...

I'll just clean that later...

I blushed to myself and continue until the mix looks, well I don't know how it's supposed to look but I think it looks great.

It's a little liquidy with no lumps whatsoever.  I give myself a small cheer of excitement and rush to put some on the pan, it lands with a little hiss and turns out to be more of a blobby shape than a circle, but it can't always be perfect. I shrug and stand nearby, a little unsure of how to know when it's done, I see bubbles and decide, that if it's anything like macoroni than its time to 'mix' or flip I this case. 

I walk over to the pan and use my flipper to get under it,
And that thing is latched to the pan,

Like latched for life,

So I get some butter and spread it around the pancake frantically, trying to get it off,

And when it finally comes off I comes with a harsh scrape noise.

Oh coming it can't be that ba-
Burnt.

It's fucking burnt.

I throw that pancake away and start over, this time buttering the whole godamn thing,

Until I have six medium sized pancakes. Three for me, three for Tom.

I huff with satisfaction. They weren't burnt and they weren't golden but they were A-okay in my book.

I look over at the clock and realize it's been an hour and the sun is out.

Jesus, it really took that long? I mean I did have to throw away 15 pancakes but what's a guy to do when he can't cook, but wants to cook, for his amazing boyfriend?!

Jeez..

I guess I should make a side or some bullshit like that
...
...
...

Eggs?

I don't know I'll try...

I pull out six eggs because three per person I guess, and I set them on the counter.

I decide I'm feeling cheeky and use the same frying pan.

No one will know, it's fine,

I butter the pan again just in case and then crack all the eggs.

All of them onto the pan.

I know I'm getting into it

'Oh hell yes I'm gonna make the best eggs just you wait Jehovah!'

I pepper them and sprinkle some of that, store bought shredded cheese onto them.

These are gonna be amazing, I take the pan off of the stove and turn it off, taking the pancake flipper and putting the cheesy eggs onto the plates evenly, smiling in satisfaction, time to wake up my sleepy blueberry and eat.

I hope he loves it.