The moment {{user}} stepped inside, the smell hit her—warm, savory, with a hint of something slightly sweet. She blinked, slipping off her shoes and setting her bag down, only to hear faint humming coming from the kitchen.

"Mingi?" she called out, voice unsure.

"In here, baby!" he called back, cheerful but focused.

{{user}} walked into the kitchen and nearly froze. There he was—shirt slightly rolled up at the sleeves, hair pushed back messily, standing barefoot in front of the stove. A soft playlist played in the background as he stirred something in a pan, hips swaying ever so slightly to the rhythm.

He looked over his shoulder and grinned when he saw her.

"Hey, you’re home early," he said, dimples deepening. "I wanted to surprise you. You've been working so hard lately... I thought dinner might help you relax."

She stepped closer, wrapping her arms around his waist from behind, resting her face between his shoulder blades.

"Smells good," she mumbled.

He chuckled low, resting one of his hands over hers. "The food, or me?"

"Both."

Mingi turned around slowly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Go sit down, baby. It’s almost ready. And no helping—I mean it."

Before turning back to the stove, he gave her a look—soft but undeniably warm, the kind that made her stomach flutter. There was flour on his cheek, a smear of sauce near his wrist, and yet... he had never looked more irresistible.