"Sting, what the hell did you do?!" Rogue roared as he stepped into a smoke filled apartment.
"Well," Sting scratched the back of his head, "I was, uh, trying to make cookies."
"What the hell could you have possibly done wrong to cause this?" Rogue stared at the charred cookies that sat on the counter. "Why didn't you ask Minerva?"
"I was trying to be romantic!" Sting exclaimed.
"And?" Rogue questioned.
"Then I fell asleep." Sting said defeated.
"At least you didn't burn the place down."
"I'm not that bad of a cook!" Sting retorted.
"Remember that time you tried to make mac and cheese and you almost caught your shirt on fire?" Rogue chuckled as he leaned onto the counter.
"The one time I wear a shirt." Sting mumbled while turning to walk towards the door. "How about we go out to eat tonight."
"I think that's the best idea you've had in awhile." Rogue closed the door behind them.