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“Ta-Da!”
It took all of Mabel’s self-control not to gag as soon as Pacifica presented the dinner she’d just cooked for her.
Whew. Okay. Time to put on her supportive girlfriend pants.
“Wow, babe...you did this?” She was trying to flash the most genuine smile she could muster.
“Yep! Sure did! All by myself!” Pacifica was positively beaming, it was obvious that she was beyond pleased with what she’d just accomplished, “Chicken cordon bleu, with rice and asparagus, of course.” L earning to cook had been her latest obsession. For some reason, ever since they’d spent the holidays in Gravity Falls, all she’d wanted to do was try and cook different meals almost every night. Not exactly in the college budget, but it was so hard to say no to those hopeful blue eyes, especially when improving her skills had been making her feel so good about herself.
Up until that point in time, Mabel had been the one who had cooked the most. She had been the one who was taught to cook growing up, taught to do laundry, taught to do everything herself really. Pacifica had had the luxury of growing up wealthy, but in her adult life she had realized that that luxury had also brought practical downfalls. In her spoiled brat days, she’d loved not doing a single thing for herself. In her current years, as a changed person and a devoted girlfriend, she found herself wanting so badly to do all the things she could never be bothered with before.
Multiple times it had been tearfully confessed to Mabel, quietly at night while snuggled together in the safety of their mountains of blankets and pillows, just how much of a failure Pacifica felt like she was. So, if choking down some questionable dinners was something she needed to do to encourage and love her best, Mabel wasn’t going to think twice about it.
To be honest, this wasn’t the worst plate that had been placed in front of her—that award would have to go to a bowl of “spaghetti and meatballs” she’d had a month ago—so she grabbed a fork, cut off a piece of chicken, and started chewing.
To say that looks had been deceiving would be an understatement. Instantly she was pleasantly surprised by how good this meal was. No burnt charcoal taste, no too-tough-to-chew texture, near perfect balance of seasoning. Pacifica had truly outdone herself.
Mabel’s current expression must not have reflected her inner thoughts very well because Pacifica’s face slowly fell with every second that passed as she watched her girlfriend taste her food.
“It doesn’t taste good, does it?” she asked quietly, looking down at the ground.
Mabel quickly realized how fast this was going downhill and she needed to gain control of it before it got bad, “No, no, no, no. Paz—this tastes amazing!”
Pacifica looked up with a watery smile and Mabel grabbed her hands from across their tiny countertop, “You really think so?”
Mabel nodded, “Um, yes, this is seriously so good! What recipe did you use??”
Pacifica sniffled and wiped her eyes, “Just, uh, one I saw on TV...I think I may have missed a couple steps, though.” They both started laughing and Mabel pulled Pacifica around the counter to come and sit on her lap.
She wrapped her arms around her waist and pulled her in close, tucking blonde hair behind her ear to rest her chin on her shoulder.
She smiled, “Hey, can I tell you something?”
Pacifica put her arms around her neck, “Hm?”
Mabel looked up at her favorite person in the world, “I am so proud of you.”
Pacifica grinned and put her hands on each side of Mabel’s face, pulling her into a long kiss. “Thanks Mabes,” she said softly, “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” Mabel began rubbing her hands up and down Pacifica’s sides, eventually toying with the hem of her blouse. “So,” she said with a sly smirk, “What’s for dessert?”