"The instructions say 1 cup of flour and a tablespoon of sugar," Patrick says beside me, biting his lip as he looks over the book, "But two tablespoons won't be bad, right?"

"Whatever you wanna do," I reply, "I'll be downstairs, just don't take too long."

Patrick nods in agreement as I make my way downstairs and to the computer to get to work on my comics. Patrick always lets me do whatever but on Friday nights, he cooks. I'm always too busy with work to do it.

He said he wanted to make cake even though it's barely a dinner but whatever. He's still learning. Cake is easy enough... right?

Not even an hour later, Patrick comes downstairs nervously with a bitten lip and his hands behind his back.

I look up from my comic to look at him.

"So uh... I finished the cake but I don't think it'll taste all that good..."

I raise my eyebrows and stand up, "What happened?"

"You should... uh... see for yourself."

He follows me upstairs and the moment my eyes land on it, I smirk a little.

It's completely burnt and the only thing giving it a lighter color are the spots where it hasn't burnt and those are still pretty dark.

The flavor was vanilla.

"How about Panda Express?" He suggests in a small voice.

I turn and kiss him, laughing into his lips, "You're such a fuckup, but it's cute."

He kisses back and I feel a small smile on his lips.

Maybe Panda Express would be better tonight.