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His chest hurt.
I can do this.
He took a deep breath and grabbed the salmon, placing it in the pan.
I can do this.
The smell of cooking meat began to fill his dorm and he fought the urge to throw everything in the garbage. This was for Kravitz. This was important.
I can do this.
His hand shook as he unstuck the fish from the pan and added snap-peas to the butter in the other pan. He wasn't going to use magic. Not again. Not yet.
I can do this.
The look of hundreds of hungry people flit through his mind, morphing into abhorrent and misshapen screams. Their mouths worked around food that becomes blood and teeth spilling from their unhinged jaws. They scream and cry for release, for help, for hell. He heaved over the trash can and took a few deep breaths.
I can do this.
The smell of lemon and sea salt and dill overpowers the memory of garlic. He hates it, the fact that one of his favorite seasonings was ruined for him. But it wasn't his fault and he sure as fuck didn't care about Sazed's feelings anymore. (Even though it still hurt and he hated the times that Kravitz looked at him like he hung the moon.)
I can do this.
Kravitz had assured him that, even if something did go wrong with his cooking—"which is unlikely as you are an amazing chef, dear"—he wouldn't be affected. He was already dead after all. But still, the thought of Kravitz's face turning blue and his mouth foaming and him falling over and him never getting up caused Taako's hands to shake even harder.
I can do this.
He turned the fish over, searing the other side and allowing the skin to sweat a bit so that it could crisp up better. Then he turned his attention to the snap-peas, giving the pan a professional shake and toss so that the peas would sear well. He bustled over to the wine rack and poured himself a large glass of a vintage red, downing it as quickly as he could.
I can do this.
But he was so afraid. So afraid of becoming attached to someone—Merle, Magnus, Kravitz, hell - Angus!—and then killing them with his cooking. Being complacent to someone's murder again. Poisoning his friends—and that word burned his throat and tore him apart from inside because he wanted friends for so long and when he finally got one he framed him for murder so it was poison in his mouth and under his skin and he hated it so much but he coveted it as well—was his greatest fear short of being alone.
I can do this.
The meal was finished and plated and he hadn't tasted it yet because what if it was poisoned and oh Istus he was going to use his possible boyfriend whatever it was that Kravitz was—because labels are bunk and attachments are hard—as a poison taster and shit he felt like absolute garbage!!!
"You can do this."
Kravitz wrapped his arms around Taako and he melted in his grasp, allowing the last vestiges of his control to slip away; he sobbed into his cloak. Kravitz stroked his hair softly and made soothing noises as he calmed his whatever Taako was to him.
"You can do this."
They sat down, food in front of both of them and a half-empty bottle of wine in front of Taako—a single glass in front of Kravitz. Taako watched with fear as he cut into the salmon, pulling apart perfectly cooked pieces of fish and allowing the aroma of salt and lemon and dill to permeate Taako's small sleeping quarters. He clutched at the umbra staff, gnawing on the handle as Kravitz put the first bite in his mouth. Panic poured upwards like black bile and he choked it back as Kravitz thoughtfully chewed on and savored the meal. One bite after another, both of the salmon and the snap-peas, continued and soon the plate was empty and Taako was crying softly, so afraid, so so afraid. What if he killed him? What if it took longer than normal? Images of Kravitz laying on the ground or crawling after Taako, arms outstretched as he tried to get his last-minute revenge on his murderer poured through his head. He hiccuped softly. Kravitz stood up and walked over to him, wrapping his arms and his cloak around the smaller elf. He hummed a quiet tune that Taako didn't recognize, smiled, and kissed him on the forehead.
"You did it."