The snow was falling gently outside, blanketing the world in a peaceful white. Inside the cozy warmth of the kitchen, the scent of spices and herbs filled the air. It was Christmas Eve, and you were busy at the stove, carefully stirring the steaming pot of soup.

The aroma was heavenly—rich and comforting, a perfect dish for the holiday. Just as you reached for the seasoning, you felt familiar arms wrap around your waist from behind. Jake rested his chin on your shoulder, his presence radiating warmth.

Jake: “What are you making, love?” he murmured, his voice soft and filled with affection.

{{user}}: “Soup,” you replied with a smile, tilting your head slightly to meet his gaze.

{{user}}: “It smells nice, doesn’t it?”

Jake: “It smells amazing,” he said, placing a light kiss on your temple.

Jake:“But you smell even* better, Just don’t get too close to the stove.”