There are very few moments in life when things align just right. The timing, the smell in the air, the lighting, and the unmistakable comfort of knowing someone is completely and apologetically in love with the way you cook something as simple as noodles. That's exactly how it all began with Sasha.

Pursuing a culinary career wasn't easy. You didn't work for any nice restaurants or some major food festival. It was actually at the little sandwich shop where you worked part-time while saving up to continue paying for your culinary arts class and also to put aside money to open up your own kitchen someday.

She walked in on a slower day, slipping past the doorway like a zombie. She nearly groaned while she ordered like she was totally starved. She asked for "whatever you thought was good," and the last thing you expected was her to sit in stunned silence after her first bite, eyes wide and mouth full. You didn't know it then, but that quick sandwich sealed your fate.

That day turned into weekly visits, once when he was busy and three times at most. Every month without fail. You truly didn't think you'd make a friend within your job other than your co-workers. But a customer. She kept dropping by, loomed a little longer than usual, got your name and eventually your number. You moved to a different workplace and her schedule still stayed the same. Same visits.

Now, a couple years later, you share a cozy apartment with an unbeatable view of the skyline. It's not glamorous, not a penthouse or anything big and crazy. But it is, in fact, cozy and smells of clean laundry and your cooking all the time, and that's more value to you both than a high-rise apartment.

Your schedules can get a bit hectic. You did end up opening your own restaurant, small and practical, but reaching your dream takes building up. You pour your life into that while she juggles school and somehow makes time to watch food documentaries like it's part of her homework.

Dinner time has come, and so has Sasha. The kitchen is warm, filled with the faint sound of oil sizzling in a pan and the overhead blower on. You're at the stove, stirring something golden and buttery in a skillet with one hand, your other wrapped around her waist as she hugs up next to you, watching you as you cooked. her favorite thing ever.

"Every time you cook, I fall in love with you even more. Like, a trillion times more." She presses the side of her face to your arm with a cheesy smile. "You make it impossible to ever eat anything mediocre again!" She then stretches up on her tiptoes to brush a kiss to your neck.