It wasn't a date.

Rowan had to repeat that mantra over and over again in his head. It wasn't a date. It wasn't a date. It was not a date.

It felt like a date.

When Rowan had left Aelin's apartment yesterday, they'd made plans for the next night so Aelin could play her piano and show him what all the fuss was about. Being the gentleman that he was, Rowan offered to bring over dinner–a home cooked meal, he'd said. Aelin's eyes had lit up then, the gold in her eyes shining brightly. So although neither had asked the other on a date, or called it that, it definitely had the feel of one. And Rowan couldn't help but be excited by the idea of it. From the little he'd gathered about her during their short conversation, the white haired male could tell Aelin was smart, more clever than most, and had a wicked humor that would make even Fenrys blush. Although he didn't know where this not-a-date-date would lead, he was very optimistic about its potential. There was just one small problem.

Rowan couldn't cook.

Not that he'd ever truly admit it, of course. And he could whip up a few things–eggs, for example. And bacon. Breakfast food was what he was best at. But for a not-a-date-date … Rowan didn't think bacon and eggs would suffice. So, several hours before their not-a-date-date was to start, he grabbed a random cook book and chose a recipe at random. After a quick run to the grocery store, Rowan had all the ingredients he needed and went to work.

It was a simple meal: herb roasted chicken with mashed potatoes and some steamed vegetables. The preparation was completed without a hitch as Rowan had an iron clad stomach and thus took no issue with removing he giblets or loosening the chicken's skin. He was also very adept at handling a knife and had the potatoes and carrots peeled and cut up in no time. Soon enough the potatoes were boiling in a pot on the stove top with the carrots, peas, and celery next to them, and the chicken baking in the oven. Everything was going perfectly. So perfectly, Rowan had even begun to feel proud of his culinary accomplishments.

He should have known better.

He didn't understand. One minute, everything was fine. The next, everything was on fire. Rowan coughed harshly and waved his hand in front of his face back and forth in an attempt to dispel the dark smoke in front of him after opening the oven door. Quickly opening his kitchen windows, Rowan groaned as he reached in and pulled out a completely black chicken. There was no redeeming it.

Placing it to the side with a sigh, Rowan moved on to the potatoes and grimaced when he saw the water they were boiling in had turned a creamy-off yellow color. Sticking a fork in them, Rowan huffed angrily as he realized they, too, were over done. Turning the stove off, he tried to salvage them as best he could by adding in copious amounts of butter and milk. They ended up tasting all right, but their texture was more soup like than anything. The only thing that turned out as it was meant to were the vegetables.

Throwing his head back and groaning loudly, Rowan began to throw everything in the sink and down the drain. He hoped Aelin would be all right with ordering take out. The white haired man was so preoccupied with cleaning up, he barely heard the soft knocking at his door. Frowning, he looked at the clock and swore before running to open it.

"Aelin," he greeted, feeling out of breath. He tried to position his body to block her view of the kitchen and the sink, but that seemed to only make her curious as to what he was hiding.

"Hey," she began, reaching up on her tip toes, trying to get a look over his shoulder. Thankfully he was too tall for her to do that. "I just thought I'd check in and see how you were doing–seeing as how you're fifteen minutes late and all."

Wincing, Rowan opened his mouth, planning on telling her some lie–his work ran late, his mother called, he fell asleep after working out–but closed it almost immediately. He didn't know Aelin all that well yet, but he had a feeling she was the type who always new when people were lying. he also had a feeling that she wouldn't take being lied to very well. So with a defeated sigh, he stepped aside and motioned to his catastrophe of a sink.

"I know, I lost track of time trying to make us dinner." He walked over to his sink and placed another pot into it. "As you can see," he said dryly while rolling his eyes, "it didn't go as planned."

Aelin had followed him in and grimaced when she saw the chicken. "None of it's salvageable, huh?"

"Unfortunately no," he didn't bother mentioning the vegetables. They were practically useless. "How do you feel about take out? There's a great Chinese place just a block away. It should be here in no time."

"Hmm," Aelin looked over the kitchen and then her eyes landed on the fridge. "You sure? What else do you have?" She opened up the fridge and Rowan had to hold back another wince. His fridge was terribly bare. Just a few simple things like sandwich meat, eggs, bacon, butter, and milk. He waited with a grim expression for her to laugh or to gasp or make some sort of disapproving sound, but she did nothing of the sort. "Oh, hey!" She exclaimed, reaching in for something. "You have bacon and eggs!" She pulled the items out of the fridge and turned around with a large, genuine smile. "I've got pancake mix over at mine, too! We're set!"

"Really?" He asked hesitantly, his brows furrowing together. "You're okay with breakfast for dinner?"

"Okay with it?" Aelin's brows mirrored his and she cocked her head to the side. "Of course I'm okay with it! Breakfast food is the only thing I'm able to cook. I'm always down for breakfast for dinner."

If Rowan were anyone else he was sure his jaw would've hit the ground by now. Instead, he just blinked at her and accepted the food items as she handed them to him. "Now come on," Aelin ordered, looping her arm through his and leading them back over to her apartment. "You cook, I'll play, and then we'll feast like kings!"

Aelin smiled up at him conspiratorially and he found, once again, his own lips stretching to match hers. If this was a date, Rowan thought, then it was about the be the best damn date he'd ever had.

A/N: Thanks for all those who reviewed! I got a prompt on tumblr to add another chapter and so here it is. If I add another one I think it'll be about Aelin inviting Rowan to one of her parties and him meeting all her friends and getting all cranky about it. Let me know if you'd be interested in that.