Honeycomb Hearts

Breakfast and a Snack

A silence overcame the two as Blake realized the possibility behind Yang's words. Yang, however, completely overlooked her accidental proposal of them being married in the future. Instead, her stomach spoke for her, bringing Blake back to reality.

"Want something to eat?" Blake asked, "I can make some more sandwiches if you liked the ones I made last time."

"Sounds good to me – I can repay you by making you food sometime."

"You don't need to do that. I've always been a bit of a chef, or so my mom says, so it's my pleasure."

Yang stared blankly at Blake. "A bit of a chef? Listen, not being able to make a sandwich is like somehow managing to set cereal on fire. Which, admittedly, I have done. Several times."

"Well maybe I won't let you try any more of the bread I baked." Blake huffed, sticking her chin out and crossing her arms.

"Wait, you baked that bread? From the sandwiches the other day?"

"Yup. All by myself. Mixed the tuna salad myself too."

"Holy crap I thought it was something that you got delivered to you from some gourmet bread delivery website. Those exist, right?" Yang asked, "But I take it back. Maybe you are a bit of a chef." Yang shot a cheeky smile at Blake, who stuck her tongue out in response. Blake began to dig through the cabinets and pull out various supplies – paper plates, a metal butter knife, a pan, and a few slices of bread.

"Anything specific you'd like?" Blake asked.

"Surprise me."

Blake turned to the fridge and flung it open, eyes scouring the inside. Her parents had just gone shopping the day before they left, ensuring Blake wouldn't be left without food, or at least the ingredients to make any. Yang noticed that a new look was on Blake's face – one of pure concentration unlike any she had seen before.

Blake leapt into action, grabbing various containers and jars and yeeting them onto the countertop next to her with such force that they were left spinning in place. She swiped four slices of bread and threw them onto the pan as if she were dealing cards and turned the stove to a burning 350 degrees. Suddenly a pot appeared in Blake's hand – Yang hadn't even seen her pull it out – and before Yang could blink, it was full of water and coming to a boil on the stove. A box of macaroni was poured into the water and the pieces of bread were being flipped without a single eye from Blake on them. Blake spun around and grabbed some cheese, placing them on top of the slices with alacrity.

"What in the..." Yang mumbled.

Before Yang's very eyes, the pasta was drained, covered in the melted cheese from the bread, and mixed with what looked like bits of ham. Blake shook the pan, loosening up the bread, and flipped the pieces one by one out onto the awaiting plates. She took a ladle and poured the ham-macaroni and cheese concoction over them, the cheese melting over the edges like the drool from Yang's mouth at the amazing smell. The sandwiches were done and laid on the table, with two matching cups on fancy saucers beside them.

"You're definitely more than a bit of a cook." Yang said.

The two ate their sandwiches eagerly – Yang nearly devouring hers in one bite, savoring the sticky cheese and how it complimented the saltiness of the ham perfectly. The crunch of the toast and the mushy macaroni paired together like cheese and red wine, and Yang was drunk off the taste. Blake poured the two of them some tea – but Yang had hardly paid any attention to what it was called, too engrossed in the sandwich to think of anything else.