i’m obsessed with a food blogger who writes about cheap ways to be gourmet in your 20s and i flirt with them over comments but they never post pictures of their face and ALSO there’s a really cute grocery bagger at the store down the street who teases me and always asks to join me for dinner and i definitely want to say yes AU
“Beef bourguignonne?” the bagger guessed.
Sansa looked at him in some surprise. “Yeah, how’d you know?”
“I’ve tried it a time or two. You should have me over so I can help you make it,” he said with his customary smile.
Sansa smiled back. Once or twice a week she went to the grocery store and loaded up with ingredients to make a recipe from her favorite food blog, and every time she did the same grocery bagger asked about what she was making and told her she should have him over. Sansa was honestly tempted–he was cute, and he clearly knew his food.
“Okay,” she said, wiping the teasing smile off his face. “Come to mine around six. I live in the red building around the corner. 5B.” With a smug look, she took her bags from him and sauntered out of the store.
She was pleased when he did show up at her place, his black polo shirt and khaki pants replaced with blue jeans and a grey t-shirt. He looked somewhat abashed, but Sansa handed him a glass of red wine and set him to chopping the onions. “All right,” she said, “It says here to add–”
“Cognac, then ignite with a match and stand back,” he finished.
Sansa looked at the recipe. “Yeah, how did you…?”
He took the Cognac from the counter, poured it in the pan, and then lit with a match and stood back. He knew what he was doing. When he looked at Sansa, her mouth fell open. “You’re Jon.”
“I sure am,” he said cheerfully, finishing up. “I realized after a while that it wasn’t coincidence that you kept getting ingredients to the recipes I was putting on my blog. Then I saw your profile picture and realized it was you.”
“And you never said anything!” she accused.
“I was waiting for you to invite me over to dinner,” he said cheekily. He covered the pot and turned to look at her. “Well, we have an hour and fifteen minutes to kill.”
Sansa smiled. “Whatever will we do in the meantime?”
“I have some ideas.” And he leaned forward and kissed her.
had been a good choice.