Soulmate couple 3/9.
Okay, this is THE most obvious one I'll do. Please bare with me, even though I might as well just put the names in its that guessable. Heh. It's not very good either, but it's what came to me when I was making myself a microwavable curry (my talents, surprisingly, extend to microwavable curries. I've only done what he did…oh…once?)
'don't try to cook like this at home, daggers destroy fingers and no film destroys microwaves – consider yourself forewarned'
lol, yep, you were right Enchantednight89
The Incident with the Microwave.
He carefully read the instructions on the box, Pierce film with knife before putting in microwave okay, he could do that: that was easy enough. Nice, simple instructions that any old idiot could follow. Good. Great. Fantastic. He removed the dagger from a clip on his belt and started pelting it off the film on the curry. BANG! BANG! BANG!
"Holy…" his best friend in the mansion, who was in the kitchen at the time, reached out her hand and grabbed the dagger, "it said, PIERCE the film, PIERCE it, not KILL IT! Like this," his friend got out a small, serviceable kitchen knife and pierced it softly. Now, the attacker of the microwavable meal looked downward in an expression of defeat, he took the offered knife and made smaller, slower motions. This seemed to meet his friend's approval, because she left.
Or maybe she just didn't want to get caught in the crossfire between the attacker and the meal.
When he'd been ordered by his soulmate that he must cook for once, instead of the chefs that were hired for the mansion, and that it was going to be an intimate, romantic meal for two, he had panicked. He'd tried to back out of it, but her words were "if the cooks don't cook for us, I do, I've never seen you cook. But you're going to."
"Maybe," he had retorted, "I don't cook because I'm a vampire!" she had merely shook her head and told him that if he wanted to get out of it, he was going to have to think of a better excuse than that.
So he had ran straight to his best friend in the mansion, the one he identified with best, the one he talked to the most, over the week he had tried making everything from chicken to toasted sandwiches, all of which burnt. As a last, desperate attempt, she had gone out and bought him two microwave meals, she said that wasn't exactly what his soulmate meant, but it was going to have to do.
"I can do this," he muttered to himself, his hands shaking with the pressure with which he held the knife. Then he realised, instead of piercing it, why didn't he just take the whole of the film off? That would surely be easier.
Feeling good about this cooking lark now, he located the microwave, it took him several minutes because it had been a whole two days since his friend had explained what one was, but now that he had found it, he opened the door to the microwave, pushed the curry in, and pressed the start button. After nine minutes, he took the curry out.
It was stone cold.
To heat the curry in the microwave, you have to actually press in the amount of time you want, the voice called from the other room, it's called a timer.
"Now she tells me," he grumbled, pressing in what he hoped was nine minutes into the microwave. His soulmate would be coming to the kitchen soon so they could have their romantic meal – no one else allowed – so he grabbed the other curry and pushed that into the microwave too. It was a tight squeeze, but it fit eventually. Then he went to go and put on a clean shirt for dinner.
When he got back downstairs, he was relieved to see his soulmate was not yet in the kitchen, he opened the door, stepped to the microwave, put one hand on the handle, pulled just a touch.
The whole thing exploded on him!
"Hey, can I come in?" his soulmate's voice was at the door. He looked down at himself, his white shirt and black jeans were covered in curry. He was a mess. Running to the door, he opened it just a touch, "err…hi? Just a minute, and I should have…" done absolutely nothing.
His soulmate pushed aside the door, stared at the room in shock, "my lord. You could have just told me you couldn't cook."
He wished he had, that would have worked? He wondered to himself, then he remembered that he was supposed to be salvaging what little was left of his dignity, "I can cook! I just had a technical problem…just a little set back…"
An eyebrow rose, "with the microwave?"
"Yes," he nodded stubbornly and she laughed.
"I've been watching you trying to learn how to cook all week, silly," a light punch on his arm followed, then she backed out of the door and leant to pick something from the floor. When she straightened, it was a pizza box, "good job I did the liberty of doing your work again. Lets go eat it in our room, the kitchen's a mess."
He felt guilty, "the cleaners are going to have a huge job."
"And I'd hate to see the bill," she nodded.
"Lets go before they realise it was us!" and they both laughed, running upstairs to their room.
