[Third Person Pov]
Clark dipped his pinky finger into the thick, creamy batter and brought it to his lips. He tasted it thoughtfully, smacking his lips several times as the flavors danced across his tongue. After a moment, he scooped up another generous dollop with his index finger. Turning to Nino with a confident grin, he extended his hand toward her. "So, what do you think?"
"Aren't you supposed to be the master chef, as you so boldly claimed earlier?" Nino shot back sarcastically, throwing his own earlier boast right back in his face. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she crossed her arms.
"Forget it," Clark muttered, rolling his eyes in exaggerated annoyance and turning back toward the mixing bowl.
"Wait, wait—I was only joking!" Nino said quickly, reaching over and gently wrapping her fingers around his wrist to stop him. Her touch was light but lingering. "You just wanted a taste tester, right?"
"Yes, I want your honest opinion," Clark replied casually as Nino continued to hold his wrist, her thumb brushing lightly against his skin.
"Okay… I can do that," Nino murmured, drawing his hand closer to her. She stared directly into Clark's eyes, her gaze unwavering and intense. Slowly, deliberately, she lowered her head and slipped his finger between her soft, warm lips. Clark felt her warm tongue slowly, almost sensually, wrapping around his finger. The moment stretched out, charged with an unexpected electricity that neither had anticipated.
Neither of them broke eye contact. The kitchen around them seemed to fade—the clatter of other students, the hum of ovens, the sweet aroma of vanilla and butter—all of it receding into the background. With a soft, wet pop, Nino slowly withdrew her mouth, her lips glistening. She immediately covered her mouth with a dainty hand, as if the reality of what she'd just done had only now hit her.
For several long seconds, silence hung between them. Then, simultaneously, they both looked away, the spell breaking. A deep flush crept across Nino's entire face, turning her cheeks a vivid crimson. Clark's ears burned bright red, the warmth spreading down his neck. Both of them now wore matching expressions of flustered embarrassment at her brazen action.
Clark busied himself by wiping his hand vigorously on his apron, trying to regain some composure. He glanced over his shoulder at Nino, who had buried her face in both hands, still blushing furiously. "You know, I should smack you for that," he grumbled, half-glaring, half-scolding. "What the heck is wrong with you?"
"You're the one who shoved your finger right in my face and told me to taste it!" Nino protested, shooting him a glare of her own from between her fingers. "Don't try to pin this on me!"
"That didn't mean you had to go all in like that," Clark retorted defensively, though a reluctant smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "If I'd told you to jump off a bridge, would you have done that too?"
It took them a few moments to calm down, both drawing in deep, steadying breaths. The playful tension gradually eased as they refocused on the task at hand—their baking project, which counted toward a significant part of their grade.
"So… what do you actually think?" Clark asked after a beat, turning back to her with a more composed expression.
"About what?" Nino blinked, looking genuinely confused for a second.
"About the taste, you dunce," Clark sighed deeply, gesturing toward the bowl of batter with exaggerated exasperation.
"Oh… right," Nino replied, her voice trailing off uncertainly. She bit her lip.
"You completely forgot, didn't you?" Clark asked, his face deadpan.
"My mind went totally blank—I don't even remember," Nino admitted with a shy, sheepish smile. She reached over, dipped her own finger properly into the batter this time, and tasted it thoughtfully. "It's missing a bit of sugar. Just a little more to balance the flavors."
Clark nodded in agreement. They returned to work side by side, the earlier awkwardness melting into comfortable teamwork. Nino added a measured spoonful of sugar, watching Clark stirring it in carefully and adjusting the consistency.
Not content to stop there, Nino took it upon herself to handle the next step with extra care. She perfectly portioned the batter onto the baking tray, shaping each dollop with precision—some into delicate hearts, others into twinkling stars. Clark observed her quietly, a small, appreciative nod of his head as her creativity brought the simple cookies to life.
Pleased with the results, they carefully slid the tray into the preheated oven. Together, they stood close, peering through the glass door as the batter slowly spread, puffed up, and hardened into golden cookies. The warm, inviting scent of fresh baking filled the air around them.
By the time they finished, the teacher made her rounds and approached their station. The cookies had emerged with a beautiful, even golden hue, faint wisps of fragrant steam still rising from their surfaces. She selected one, blew on it gently to cool it, and took a bite. After a thoughtful pause, she nodded approvingly. "Hmm, nice work you two. Bonus points for the creative shapes and lovely appearance. These look professional."
Clark turned to Nino with a nonchalant, triumphant grin and held out his hand, as if it was all expected. She beamed ear to ear, her eyes lighting up with shared joy, and slapped his palm enthusiastically in celebration. The earlier fluster was forgotten, replaced by the warm glow of success and the easy camaraderie that had grown between them.
By the end of the lively home economics class, the students were given permission to package their finished cookies in small plastic bags and take them home. The kitchen was filled with the lingering warmth of ovens and the sweet scent of vanilla as everyone wrapped up.
Nino carefully tied a cute pink ribbon around her neatly filled bag, finishing it with a perfect little bow. She turned toward Clark, holding the bag out to him with both hands. "Here."
"What?" Clark asked, staring at the offering in genuine confusion, his brow furrowed.
"I…" Nino hesitated for a moment, clearly struggling with her words. She pushed down her pride and continued, her voice softer than usual. "I wanted to apologize, you know… for yesterday. I shouldn't have called you inconsiderate. I'm really sorry."
"Oh wow, you're gifting me my own cookies which I made," Clark replied with dramatic exaggeration, placing a hand over his chest as if deeply touched. "Thank you, you're so nice and thoughtful."
"I helped make them too, you know…" Nino muttered, looking down at her shoes, her shoulders slumping in clear dejection at his teasing response to her sincere apology. "I wanted to use them as a peace offering between us."
Clark immediately felt a pang of guilt seeing her rejected expression. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly for a second. "Sorry," he said more gently. "I know you're being genuine. I shouldn't have reacted like that." He reached over and accepted the bag from her hands. "Apology accepted. Don't worry about it—I know you were only worried about Itsuki."
Nino stood with her hands clasped behind her back, tilting her head up to look at him with a hopeful, almost vulnerable gaze. "So… does this mean we're cool?"
"As the Antarctic," Clark replied nonchalantly, the corner of his mouth twitching into a small smirk.
Nino's face lit up instantly. The rejected look vanished, replaced by a bright, relieved smile that made her eyes sparkle.
---
By the time class officially ended, Komi and Lala both wore noticeably dejected expressions. The pair stood hunched over a trash can, staring sadly at a bag filled with unmistakably burnt cookies. Dark, charred edges peeked through the plastic.
"I'm sorry, Komi… we failed because of me," Lala said remorsefully, her voice heavy with disappointment as she gazed at their ruined creation.
Komi didn't look upset in the slightest. Instead, she reached out and patted Lala's back comfortingly, her gentle gestures clearly expressing that she had still enjoyed the experience despite the outcome.
"What are you two doing?" Clark asked as he approached, hands casually in his pockets.
They both spun around quickly. Lala tried to hide the burnt bag behind her back. "Nothing!" she said a bit too brightly, standing ramrod straight with a tense, forced smile. "Right, Komi?"
Komi nodded her head so rapidly she looked like a bobblehead doll.
Clark simply stared at them with a perfectly straight, unimpressed face until their resolve finally cracked.
"Okay, fine…" Lala sighed in defeat. She reluctantly brought the bag of blackened, scorched cookies forward. Lowering her head in shame, she mumbled, "We failed at making the cookies. We were actually going to gift them to you, but they turned out completely inedible—"
"If they're for me, why are you throwing them out?" Clark interrupted, swiftly snatching the bag from their hands before either could protest further, "Give it here"
"But—" Lala tried to object.
Without another word, Clark tilted his head back and dramatically emptied the entire contents of the bag straight into his mouth. He began chewing with loud, crunchy sounds echoing through the kitchen area. Komi and Lala stared at him in wide-eyed surprise, frozen in place.
He wiped a few blackened crumbs from the corner of his mouth, smacked his lips thoughtfully, and declared, "A little crunchy, but not too bad. Good work, ladies."
Lala and Komi stared at him blankly for a long moment. Then Lala's lips slowly curved into a warm, affectionate smile while Komi started giggling softly behind her hand, her shoulders shaking with quiet laughter.
"You didn't have to do that, Clark…" Lala said, her voice full of fond appreciation.
Clark's tongue moved around inside his mouth as he cleared the last bits. "Do what? Do you have any idea how many starving kids there are in Africa? I couldn't let perfectly good food go to waste."
"Thank you, Clark," Lala said sincerely, her eyes soft with gratitude. Beside her, Komi nodded enthusiastically, clearly sharing the same heartfelt sentiment.
The small group shared a light, warm moment together as the class bells rang, signaling the end of another class.
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