Before you start reading this, just a reminder that Harry can cook. He's amazayn at it. (Even though I never tasted his cooking) so, just bear with me on this Imagine. Much love, xoxo
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Harry’s POV
I stood over the burning chicken, tears in my eyes. Half heartedly, I dumped the meat in the trash, sighing over the mess I had made. I was so excited to finally fry my own chicken that I called my girlfriend, (Y/N) to celebrate with me, but alas… I had failed her. Now, she was only a few blocks from my house, and I was here, chickenless. As I thought over how long it would take to possibly make another chicken, I heard her fling open the front door.
“Harry!” she sang, her footsteps making their way closer to my kitchen. “I’m ready to eat!”
She giggled, taking her usual seat at the table. Unable to meet her eyes, I stared intently at my shoes. She noticed my silent state, and she questioned me on what had me so upset.
“I’m sorry,” I mumbled, feeling my eyes well up with tears. “I just - I tried to make the chicken! But then I got on Tumblr and it was so distracting that I didn’t notice the chicken catch on fire! And I think I damaged my frying pan.”
Sighing again, I prepared myself for her disappointment, but I was surprised to hear laughing. Quizzically, I looked up at her, shock coloring my face.
“Baby, I know you can’t cook chicken,” she said, smiling. “You can’t cook anything.”
“What?” I asked in disbelief. I thought she loved my cooking!
“Baby, you really suck at cooking,” she admitted. “But you know what? It doesn’t even matter; I’ll treat you to Lasagna tonight.”
Returning her smile, I shrugged sheepishly. “Well damn, I guess this worked out well after all.”
*GIF on the side*