Xavier moved around the kitchen like he owned the place — precise, confident, almost like a dance. He chopped, stirred, flipped, and seasoned, the smells weaving a quiet spell toward the dining area. The aroma of sizzling eggs, buttery toast, roasted herbs, a faint sweet hint of something like caramelized onions mixed with warm bread hit Seraphina, and her stomach betrayed her before her mind could even register. She crossed her arms, trying to act aloof, but her mouth watered and she found herself leaning forward ever so slightly, sniffing and guessing.
"What's he making?" she muttered under her breath, eyes darting toward the kitchen. The faint clink of pans and the hiss of heat only teased her more.
