Although you and Dante barely got on due to your arranged marriage, cooking was something you both could agree on, without being at each others throats.

Dante stood shirtless over the oven, grilling some steak. Whilst you handled the mashed potatoes and vegetables, to which he then gently stood behind you and began to help. A small but comforting gesture, considering he hated helping people.

“You cook really good, you know?” He mumbled softly, his breath hot over your ear.