"I can cook!"
"No, you really can't."
Atreus pouted, eyebrows furrowed. Brok shrugged, looking at him nonchalantly. Wasn't his fault the kid was a terrible cook. Sindri, who had just come back from going to the washroom to throw up, meekly smiled at the demi-god.
"It wasn't the worst thing I've ever-"
Brok snorted. "Yeah it was, don't lie to ya self."
"…Okay, maybe it could of used some salt or-"
Atreus groaned and threw his hands up, turning away to sulk back to his corner. He had offered to make dinner since the dwarves were so busy that day, but apparently he failed to make something even semi-decent.
Brok watched him go and stopped smiling, sighing and uncrossing his arms while Sindri guiltily rubbed the back of his neck.
"Wasn't ya fault, kid. Can't help it if you ain't a natural."
Atreus glanced at them, still pouting. After a moment of contemplation he sighed and looked to the floor in defeat.
"But I wanted to make you guys food. You always forget to do it yourself when you're this busy. It's not healthy."
The brothers looked to each other and after a glare from Sindri Brok sighed and turned back to Atreus.
"…Want us to teach ya?"