hiiiii ✨ i know i’ve been posting a lot of writing this week, but i hope you don’t mind one more. in my head, this is set five years in the future. maybe this will be a thing? if i can make myself actually follow through on what i’m picturing for it lol
For dinner, Even has made lasagna. It’s probably a new recipe, Isak thinks. Even has been marathoning Iron Chef all the last week, and that always seems to bring out the urge to recipe-hunt in him. It’s not anything Isak is going to complain about.
“Do you like the sauce?” Even says, of course right as Isak is shoveling a steaming forkful of pasta and cheese into his mouth. It burns a little, from the size of the bite and how fast he tries to chew, and he winces even as he nods.
“What’d you put in it this time?” he asks, mouth still half-full.
“A splash of vodka, a little red pepper.”
“Spicy,” Isak says, exaggerated and in English. Even grins. “It’s good, though, really. Really good.”
“It still needs something. I think I might try making the pasta next time.”
“Like. From scratch?”
“Yeah,” Even says, stretching the tail end a bit in a clear how else?
“Oh. Cool, I didn’t know you could.”
“Like, in general, or me specifically?”
“How have you survived 22 years?”