126

"You know that this thing may end up activating the fire alarm, don't you know, Hunt? "I ask, watching him bend over to the heated oven.

Hunter throws me a warning look through the dense smoke that comes out of the oven by the puff, and I shut up. A second later, I observe what your gloved hands hold inside a round shape "in there is a black and stewed dough, in which even for me it is clearly possible to see the traces of raw flour. He releases the disastrous cake on top of the kitchen countertop, where I'm sitting, and pulls both gloves out grumbling a Turkish swear word.

"It's not a thing, it's a cake.”

"A cake that was stepped on by someone very angry, and toasted with a torch "zombo. He closes his face and I ignore it. "I warned you that we could buy one.”

Hunter frowns at the bottle of whiskey in my hands and calmly takes it out of my domain. He ignores when I snap my tongue, dissatisfied, and puts a glass of warm milk between my fingers. I drink a sip, I make a face, but I deci