Demyan
"You're cooking?"
"Yes I'm cooking."
"Actual food?"
"Yes Demyan actual food," Malia glared as she stood in the kitchen with a little pink apron.
"Demyan, have more faith in her," Pa chuckled, wearing a matching apron Malia had bought for him since they always cooked together.
"I'm just in shock," I chuckled as I sat by the kitchen island, "You never cook. Well you try to cook but then it never comes out well."
Malia's cute scowl made me laugh even harder before I was hit with a wooden spoon, "Well that is why I've been going to cooking classes and I want to spoil everyone tonight and impress my parents so stop being a jerk."
I held up my hands in defence, "I look forward to eating your food chef, Malia." Her scowl was quickly replaced with a smile. Pa chased me out of the kitchen so I could also be surprised and when Dad was just walking in, dressed in his jogging gear he was also quickly turned around at the door.
"Are you back from a jog?" I asked him.
