"What? You don't like it?"
You both stared down at the bowl of (food) that you made. You admit that your cooking wasn't the best, but at least it was edible. Or at least more so than Arthur's.
"Not really, love. It's too salty and it's overcooked."
"Fine." You pouted. You took the bowl and stormed back into the kitchen.
Does he have any right to criticize me on my cooking when his taste like...? A shiver crawled up your spine as you thought about the last time you had a taste of Arthur's food.
As of late, Arthur made you meals as a sign of his affections towards you. You loved how he wanted to treat you well, but... if only he could treat you in ways that didn't make you sick to your stomach. So instead, you decided that you would cook for Arthur.
You sighed. You thought about other dishes that would appeal to your boyfriend's taste. It probably served you right that he would dislike your cooking since you secretly hated his. But at the very least, you would smile and appreciate his food. What they lacked in flavor they made up with love.
"That stubborn Brit.... I wish he would see how much effort I'm putting into this." You huffed as you pulled out ingredients and spices.
Two dishes later, your efforts had a bit of a beat down as Arthur insulted your food. To piss you off more, he would say them unnotably relaxed. It's too bitter. It's too dry. There was no pleasing this man.
What is this? Iron Chef? You thought sourly.
Arthur pulled you out of your short fume and you looked at him. He looked sympathetic? You had a little spark of hope. Maybe he finally noticed.
"Can I honestly say that... I think it would be best if I resume cooking our meals again. Though it is very sweet of you, I don't fancy your cooking. It doesn't suit my taste."
You weren't sure why, but at that moment, you didn't move. You just looked at him with a frozen smile.
"Love? Are you alright?"
"Oh, yes. I'm perfectly fine." You stood up from your seat and made you way over to Arthur. "As long as you're perfectly fine with this." You placed a hand behind Arthur's head and shoved his face into his meal. As soon as the deed was done, Arthur struggled back up and faced you with shock.
"_____! What the bloody hell-"
"You could at least appreciate my food, you know!" You snapped. "I don't care if you liked it or not, but... but a simple thank you would have sufficed, you asshole!" Then you ran away to your bedroom, slamming and locking the door.
A half hour later, you were still lying in your bed, sniffling occasionally. You shed a few tears, but you didn't burst into a full out sob after the fight. You were just angry.
You lifted your head to see that Arthur was peeping his head through your door. He must have cleaned up because his face was clear of food.
"Go away." You commanded drily, dropping your head back onto the pillow.
"_____, I'm sorry that I've been a picky eater. And I'm even more sorry that I didn't appreciate you for your hard work." Arthur had entered your room and sat himself on the edge of your bed. "Your food is actually quiet good."
"... You don't have to lie to me. I know that you don't like my cooking. In truth, I don't really like your cooking either."
"B-but you've always said you liked my cooking."
"Sorry.... I lied. I just said that so you wouldn't feel upset."
Arthur looked sad and slightly confused. You felt nervous and horrible inside. You had been avoiding this for the longest time. You knew Arthur was proud, but you had to tell him the truth. You reached out and took his hand into yours.
"Arthur," You said softly. "I'm really sorry I lied to you. I... don't like to seeing you like this. I know how you are about your cooking. That's why I acted the way I did. I still love you, but... I don't think I can live off your food."
"It's alright, _____." His lips formed a small smile and he gave your hand a squeeze. "I forgive you. I knew it's a bit late, but I want to say thank you. For all that you've done for an idiot like myself."
Arthur scooted closer, looking down at you. Then he leaned in for a sweet kiss, which you happily returned.
"So," You started promptly afterward. "What should we do now?"
"I have a few ideas." Arthur climbed over you, pinning your wrists over your head and staring you down with his emerald green eyes. "I'm awfully hungry right now."
At first you weren't sure what he was implying, but soon enough you knew exactly what Arthur wanted. And you happily obliged