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"I hope you like your meat well done."
So it's not my finest work.
I set the plate on the table, along with the Caesar salad and perfectly microwaved potatoes.
"I'm not picky," she says, stabbing one of the charred lumps and transferring it to her plate.
"That's an extremely helpful quality."
"It's the thought that counts, Edward."
"I was thinking about where your hands were heading," I admit.
"So was I," she says wistfully.
"You know, the salad will keep, I can reheat the potatoes, and your steak is still gonna be burned to a crisp in an hour."
A/N: *shrugs* Just sayin'...