Drew narrowed his eyes. "The burn cream in plain sight said that."

May quickly grabbed the tube and stuffed it behind her back. "You must be imagining things. There's no burn cream here!"

Drew pinched the bridge of his nose. "May..."

"What?" she said, trying to sound nonchalant. "It's no big deal!"

"You burned yourself while cooking spaghetti," Drew deadpanned.

"It happens!" May protested. "Besides, it's just a little burn. I'm fine!"

Drew stepped closer, reaching out for her hand. "Let me see it."

"It's nothing!" May insisted, backing away.

"May," Drew said firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument.

May sighed in defeat and reluctantly held out her hand. Her index finger was indeed red and slightly swollen.

Drew frowned, gently holding her hand. "You should've told me. This could get worse if you don’t take care of it."

"I am taking care of it," May said, her voice softening. "I put burn cream on it. See? I'm responsible."

Drew rolled his eyes but grabbed the burn cream from behind her back anyway. "You're lucky I’m here. Knowing you, you'd try to shake hands with a Charizard next."

"Hey! I’m not that clumsy!"

Drew smirked. "Right, because accidentally setting your glove on fire last week totally doesn’t count."

"That was an accident!" May pouted. "And it wasn't even my fault! Skitty knocked over the candle!"

"Sure," Drew teased as he carefully reapplied the burn cream and wrapped her finger with a small bandage he found in the kitchen drawer.

May watched him, her expression softening. "You’re good at this, you know."

"Good at what?" Drew asked without looking up.

"Taking care of people," she said quietly.

Drew paused, his cheeks faintly pink, but he quickly recovered. "Someone has to keep you from setting yourself on fire."

May laughed, nudging him lightly with her uninjured hand. "Well, thanks for being my hero, Drew."

He smirked, finally meeting her eyes. "Don't mention it. Just try not to burn down the kitchen next time, okay?"

"Deal," May said with a grin.

As Drew turned to leave, May called after him. "Hey, you’re still eating the spaghetti, right?"

Drew glanced back with a playful glint in his eyes. "As long as it doesn’t taste like burnt fingers."

"Drew!" May yelled, throwing a kitchen towel at him as he laughed all the way out of the room.



Drew stared at May, unimpressed. "The burn cream and the bright red finger kind of gave it away, genius."

May nervously laughed, hiding her hand behind her back. "Oh, come on, it's just a tiny little—ow!" She winced as she accidentally bumped her hand against the counter.

Drew sighed, stepping closer. "May, you need to be more careful."

"I'm fine!" she insisted, backing up. "It's not a big deal!"

"Uh-huh," Drew deadpanned, grabbing her wrist gently. "Let me see."

May hesitated but eventually held out her hand. The burn was small but angry-looking.

Drew shook his head. "You were going to keep cooking like this?"

"Well, yeah," May muttered. "I didn’t want to ruin lunch."

"May, you're more important than spaghetti," Drew said flatly, reaching for the burn cream.

She blinked. "Wait, did you just—"

"Hold still," Drew interrupted, ignoring her stunned expression. He carefully applied the cream, his touch surprisingly gentle.

May pouted slightly. "You don't have to be so serious about it."

"And you don't have to be so reckless," Drew shot back. "What were you even doing when you burned yourself?"

She looked away, embarrassed. "I was trying to taste the sauce, but I forgot the spoon was hot..."

Drew stared at her for a moment before sighing again. "Of course you did."

"Hey!" May frowned. "It could happen to anyone!"

"Sure," Drew said, smirking slightly. "Anyone who doesn't know how to use a spoon properly."

"You're so mean!" May huffed, crossing her arms.

"Just honest," Drew replied, wrapping a small bandage around her finger. "There. Now stay out of the kitchen until I say it's safe."

"But—"

"No buts," Drew said firmly. "I'll finish lunch. You go sit down."

May blinked. "You? Cook? Do you even know how?"

Drew raised an eyebrow. "What, you think you're the only one who can make spaghetti?"

"Well..." she trailed off, looking skeptical.

"Just go," Drew said, pointing toward the living room.

"Fine," May relented, though she couldn't help but smile as she walked away.

As she settled onto the couch, she heard Drew mutter something from the kitchen.

"Honestly, who burns themselves on a spoon?"

May rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the grin on her face. "Still mean," she muttered to herself, but her heart felt warm all the same.



Drew sighed, running a hand through his hair. "May, come on, you're terrible at lying. Just admit it."

May huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "I didn’t burn my finger. It just... touched the pan for a second.”

Drew raised a brow, unconvinced. "And that's why you have burn cream out? Because it was 'just a second'?"

She shifted nervously, glancing at her hand. "I didn’t want it to get worse, okay? It's not a big deal!"

Drew stepped closer, taking her hand gently despite her protests. "Let me see."

"It's nothing, Drew!"

"May," he said firmly, but his tone was soft. "Just let me check."

Reluctantly, she let him look. Her index finger was red, and though it didn’t seem too severe, it was clear it must have stung.

Drew sighed again, shaking his head. "You need to be more careful. What if you’d seriously hurt yourself?"

May rolled her eyes, though her cheeks flushed slightly. "It’s fine, Drew. I’ve got this under control. I’ve been cooking forever!"

"Yeah, and yet you still manage to scare yourself over a spider and burn your finger in the same afternoon," Drew teased, smirking.

"Hey!" May pouted. "That spider was huge!"

He chuckled softly, walking over to the first aid kit. "Stay here. Let me reapply the cream properly."

May blinked, surprised. "You don’t have to—"

"Sit," Drew interrupted, pointing to a chair at the kitchen table.

With a reluctant sigh, May sat down, watching as Drew carefully dabbed burn cream on her finger before wrapping it in a small bandage. His touch was surprisingly gentle, and she found herself watching him closely.

"You didn’t have to go all nurse on me, you know," she muttered.

Drew glanced up, smirking. "Someone has to make sure you don’t hurt yourself again. You’re a magnet for trouble, May."

She stuck her tongue out at him. "Oh, please. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

"Sure you are," he said, standing back and admiring his handiwork. "That’s why I’ll be keeping an eye on you anyway."

May’s cheeks reddened, and she quickly turned back to the stove. "Well, if you’re done playing doctor, can I finish making lunch now?"

Drew chuckled. "Fine, but I’m not leaving until you promise to be more careful."

"Promise," May mumbled, glancing at him from the corner of her eye.

Drew smirked, leaning casually against the counter. "Good. Now, let’s hope your spaghetti is as good as you say it is."

"It’s going to be amazing," May said confidently, her mood brightening.

"Better be," Drew teased. "Or I might start cooking instead."

May gasped dramatically. "You? Cook? Please. You’d burn the house down."

"At least I wouldn’t burn my finger," he shot back with a playful grin.

"Ugh, you’re the worst!"

"And yet, here I am, saving the day," Drew replied smugly.

May couldn’t help but laugh, shaking her head. "You’re impossible."

"And you love it," he quipped.

She didn’t respond, but the small smile on her face said enough.

Drew sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he took a step closer. "May, you clearly burned your finger. Why didn’t you say anything?"

May waved him off with her uninjured hand, forcing a grin. "It’s no big deal! Just a little burn. I put some cream on it, and it’s fine now!"

“‘Fine’ isn’t the word I’d use when you’re hiding it behind your back like a guilty kid,” Drew said, narrowing his eyes.

"I wasn’t hiding it!" May insisted, stepping back.

"Oh, really? Then let me see." Drew reached out, but May turned, shielding her hand.

"Nope! Nothing to see here!"

Drew frowned. "May, you can’t just ignore stuff like this. Let me take a look."

May sighed dramatically, finally holding out her hand. Her finger was indeed red, though not blistered. "See? It’s barely anything. You’re overreacting."

Drew examined it, his expression softening. "Overreacting? You burned yourself, May. You should’ve told me."

May pouted. "What were you gonna do? Call Nurse Joy for a tiny burn?"

"No," Drew said, grabbing the burn cream from the counter. "But I can at least make sure it’s taken care of properly."

May blinked as Drew carefully dabbed more cream on her finger, his touch surprisingly gentle. "Wow. Who knew you could be so... considerate?"

Drew rolled his eyes. "Don’t get used to it. I just don’t want you making it worse and blaming me somehow."

May smirked. "Sure, sure. Whatever you say, Drew."

He sighed, finishing up and wrapping her finger in a small bandage. "There. All set. Now, can we eat before you accidentally set the kitchen on fire next?"

"Hey!" May protested, sticking her tongue out at him. "You’re lucky I don’t throw your lunch at you for that comment."

Drew smirked, heading toward the table. "You wouldn’t waste good spaghetti on me. You’d miss it too much."

May giggled, following after him. "You know me too well."

As they sat down, Drew glanced at her. "Seriously, though. Be more careful, okay? Spiders and burns in one day—what’s next?"

May grinned, twirling her fork. "Hopefully dessert, if you’re nice enough to do the dishes."

Drew groaned, but the faint smile on his face betrayed him. "Fine. But only because your cooking isn’t half bad."

"Best compliment I’ve ever gotten from you," May said with a laugh, taking a bite of her spaghetti.