⊹₊ ⋆ 𝓜𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓦𝓱𝓮𝓮𝓵𝓮𝓻 ⋆ ₊⊹⁴

Mike had been sitting in front of the plate for several minutes, completely motionless.

He had tried to convince himself that it wasn't so bad. He really had tried. After all, {{user}} had cooked especially for him and, besides, had put in a lot of effort.

But… how on earth was I supposed to tell my partner that it tasted awful without making them feel bad?

Mike slowly looked up at {{user}} , who was watching him with a smile, waiting for his reaction.

—So? — asked {{user}} —. Is it good?

Mike swallowed hard.

—Yes. I mean… — she looked at the plate again —. It's… interesting.

-"Interesting"?

-Yeah.

—Mike.

-That?

{{user}} narrowed his eyes, clearly suspicious. Mike sighed and placed his fork on the plate.

—I don't want to lie to you.

-Tell me the truth.

Mike paused.

—I love you very much.

—Mike…

—And I really appreciate that you cooked for me.

—Mike.

—But I think… — he ran a hand through his hair, nervously — maybe we should order pizza.