June's heart stopped beating when she saw the dark red stain on the front of Emael's grey blouse. She threw the apartment door shut and dashed forward, pulling Emael's arm away from where she was dabbing at the stain with a wet cloth.
"What the fuck is this?" June asked, eyes wide. "Who did this to you? Do we need to find a doctor? Wait, did you die again? Should I go call Caleb? Is it healing alright?"
Emael, who had frozen at June's contact, jumped back into motion. She pulled at the tight grip June had on her wrists, but it appeared futile. "June-"
"Oh my God, why do you always get yourself into shit like this?" June interrupted, taking the damp cloth from Emael's hands and pressing it against the stain, trying to stem the bleeding. None of Emael's words were getting through her panicked haze. At least, not until a timer went off and June halted in her movements, turning around in the small kitchen to find a pot of pasta boiling on the stove, and next to that–
"It isn't blood," Emael said.
June could practically hear the laughter in her voice. She blinked dumbly at the pan with sauce and the splatters of red that stained the counter top. "It isn't?"
"No," Emael got out. She was still attempting to compose her expression when June turned back to face her.
June slowly pulled the tea towel away from Emael's blouse.
"I was cooking," Emael continued, face serious, but eyes twinkling with amusement. "I just spilled some sauce, is all."
Emael barely managed to contain her laughter all throughout a dinner that June ate with a pout and cheeks that were red from embarrassment.
She lost it when June got some of the sauce on her jeans.
An hour later, as they sat on the couch together, she was still laughing. Emael held a book in her hands, Tango sitting on her lap, whilst June was petulantly staring at the screen of her phone. When June looked up exasperatedly, Emael tried for the hundredth time that evening to calm herself.
"Oh, come on," she said with that heavy British accent that made its way into her speech whenever any kind of emotion was running high. "That was too funny."
"No." June shook her head. "It wasn't funny at all!"
"I disagree," Emael said, carefully marking the page of her book before depositing it on the side table. She picked Tango up from her lap and cradled the now protesting cat in her arms as she scooted over to June, who was sitting on the other end of the couch. Putting Tango back down, she leaned her chin on June's shoulder and whispered, "That was the cutest and funniest thing I have ever seen you do."
"You- I-" June huffed. "I'd like to see you try and figure out the difference between blood and marinara sauce."
"It's not that hard, Love," Emael said, pecking June on the cheek. "You just need to pay attention."
"I panicked, alright?" June said. She looked up from her phone. "I can't help it that you are unable to make a meal without getting it all over yourself!"
Emael's lip quirked. "It's cute."
June groaned. "I hate you."
"No you don't," Emael sang, smiling mischievously. "You love me."
June rolled her eyes and sighed. "Yes I do. God knows why."
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(for 's contest)
Prompt: "I'd like to see YOU figure out the difference between blood and marinara sauce."
