This was written for getyourwordsout's Yahtzee prompt "fizz" where I had to write over 700 words and fan_flashworks' #334 "smoke".

AU, set in some post-canon world where I got to write for TVD and Steferine was endgame. The "fold it in" was inspired by Schitt's Creek.

summary: Katherine's determined to show Stefan she can cook dinner.

i'm a survivor
part five: fold

"You do know it's not meant to do that, right?"

Katherine sets her shoulders and grits her teeth, purposefully looking away from him. Stefan stands behind her, hand warm and light against her hip. It's commendable how she resists jutting her hip to shove his hand off her.

It's been a week since he made a comment of disbelief about her cooking and he still hasn't given up on pursuing this horrible challenge. Katherine had hoped by the third day he would've quietly forgotten about it or had conceded defeat and acknowledged that Katherine was, after all, an excellent cook… even if she burnt the pasta and made a mess of the stove.

"It's fine," she says a little tersely. She continues to stir the pot of rice, ignoring how tendrils of steam filter up to the vent. She hasn't turned it on. It's a part of her strategy: if she doesn't turn it on, then he won't be able to see what she's doing and—even better—he won't be able to comment on what she's doing and offer minor, casual adjustments. "Go away."

He chuckles low in his throat and shakes his head. Hand settling a little heavier against her hip, Katherine inhales deeply—annoyed—and tenses at the way he seems to sense and enjoy it. "No," he says, looking at her. His hazel eyes are bright and his face is so boyish and young she wants to pinch his cheeks.

Glancing at him, she keeps her gaze on the bubbling water. "You're in my light."

"Ah." Hand still on her hip, he reaches up and pulls the vent out, the sound annoyingly loud in their kitchen. He rests his hand against the lip of the counter and turns so he can face her with an aggravatingly handsome smile. "Now you can see."

Rolling her eyes, she forces an overly saccharine smile as she peers up at him. "My hero."

Stefan laughs. "I can do the rice, you know." He eyes her curiously, his smile small and genuine. No longer laughing at her. "I know you don't like doing it."

She sighs heavily, shoulders slumping. Stirring the rice once more, she leaves the wooden spoon sitting in it. With her gaze focused on it as it bubbles beneath the water, she shakes her head. "No," she says seriously, peering up at him. "I won't learn if you keep saving me, Stefan. I don't need to be saved."

"I know," he says, looking sheepishly down at his hand on the counter. Katherine tilts her head to the side and tries to catch his gaze, a difficult feat given he's so stubborn when he wants to be. "I just want to help."

"I know," she says, smiling. "But I'm not going to become the best chef in this house if you keep hovering and doing it for me."

With a bark of a laugh, he smiles, cheeks pinching as his face brightens. Katherine smiles, pleased with herself. "Best chef in the house, huh?"

She nods, tilting her head up defiantly. "Yep."

"That's going to be a bit difficult, you know." The hand on her hip slides down to her ass. Katherine glares at him, smiling. "I heard I was the best chef in the house."

"I said that under duress," she says haughtily.

Stefan doesn't stop smiling. She picks up the wooden spoon and stirs the rice once more, fearful it'll begin to stick to the pot's sides and burn again.

He pinches his lips playfully as he glances up at the ceiling. "I'm pretty sure you said that willingly. Screamed it, even."

Katherine rolls her eyes. Pulling the wooden spoon out of the pot, she gestures with it towards him. "Remind me to never ask you to roleplay anything ever again."

"But I liked being the chef being admonished by the very unsatisfied customer," he says. She yelps when he (predictably) squeezes her ass. His hand remains where it is, far too comfortable for her liking. While she enjoys it when he teases her, Katherine likes to be in the driver's seat.

"And I enjoyed it, too," she says, avoiding his gaze. She stirs the rice, biting her bottom lip. "But how can I be the best chef being admonished by the unsatisfied customer if the unsatisfied customer keeps overstepping his boundaries?"

"Okay, okay," he laughs. Reluctantly pulling his hands away from her, he holds them up in surrender. "I get it." He smiles at her before glancing at the rice and, with a tilt of his head towards it, says, "You need to fold it in."

"I don't know what that means."

"Fold it." He gestures with his hands as if he's holding a book.

Narrowing her eyes, she shakes her head. She shoves him. "Get out."

notes.

Thanks for reading!