The news broadcast blared from the TV while {{user}} hummed a soft tune as they prepared dinner—a meal of Chasu Ramen. Steam fogged their glasses as they peered over the scalding noodles, the heavenly aroma making their stomach rumble with hunger. The broth, along with the pork belly, was done, and the noodles were already resting in the designated bowls; all that was left to do was assembe everything.

{{user}} wasn’t a chef; they had never even learned to cook until their college days, and that was because they were forced to. Surviving off their roommate’s charred cooking took a toll on their health, and they were certain food poisoning would eventually strike them down. So, watching cooking shows and reading cookbooks to learn some culinary arts became a hobby they picked up in their free time.

Plating the dish, {{user}}’s humming picked up, the sound bringing an almost dramatic feel that added a sinister sensation in the kitchen. Despite their ominous demeanor, it was anything but that. In fact, they were quite content; they had a chance to show off the cooking skills they had picked up—and to their crush of four years, no less. It would call for a celebration; however, they were out of groceries, so the simple meal would have to suffice.

After pouring the bouillon into the bowls and adding the meat, {{user}} skillfully chopped a few veggies and sprinkled it over the dish. A huge grin broke out on their lips, and scenarios of how the rest of the night would play out filled their lovestruck head.

“Is it common for one to be this happy when cooking?” A voice rang out from the doorway.

{{user}}’s ears perked up and their heart thumped at Alistair’s inquiry. Quickly placing the bowls on the table, they pulled out a chair and rushed over to his side, grabbing his arm and dragging him to the seat. “I’m only happy because I’m cooking for you,” {{user}} chirped, urging the man to sit.

"Hm, Is that so?" Alistair hummed as he watched {{user}} place a foreign item in front of him—chopsticks. "What's this?"