#squabbleshipping

Suddenly, it made perfect sense why Jack had refused to make anyone hot chocolate. She had been in the kitchen for at least twenty minutes, and when Crow entered the room, she let out a huff of pure frustration.

He sighed, pushing her aside to get a good look at the mess she had created. “Well, you have the hob on way too high for a start,” He grumbled the words, dumping the pot into the sink and running water into it. The smell would likely haunt the house for weeks. “Who are you trying to make this for?”

Jack had crossed her arms, leaning against the counter with a grumble of something under her breath. When he spun around and stared, she barked, “Nobody. Never fucking mind.”

It was just as well she hadn’t tried to get a job as a barista – he could see the lines wrapping blocks in the name of refunds. Well, that wasn’t exactly fair. She did make incredible coffee, and Crow really couldn’t figure out why she couldn’t make anything else.

Still, it didn’t matter. He had a pot to try and save now. He rolled his sleeves up, turning away from her to focus on cleaning. She didn’t speak, nor did she offer to help, but did that surprise him? She rarely did, especially not when she was the cause of the mess.

“You wanna learn how to make it proper?”

“Yes.” She seemed extra-bristly, glaring over at him.

Still, despite the obvious aggression, he resigned himself to being Jack’s teacher. “You need it much lower. Milk’ll burn and taste rotten if it starts boiling.” He watched her step closer out the corner of his eye, her gaze watching his every move.

It turned out, when made correctly, a hot chocolate didn’t take half an hour. No, it took Crow about five minutes, and that was him slowing down for her. When he poured it into the mug, he lightly pushed it across the worktop. “There. Give that to whoever you’re trying to impress.”

Jack’s brows furrowed, and she pushed it back towards him. “Take it, then.” Her cheeks were red, and he swore her eyes were watering from embarrassment.