The cabin was quiet, except for the crackling of the fireplace and the faint hum of the oven. Sam sat at the kitchen table, his long legs stretched out as he flipped through an old book, completely immersed. You stood at the counter, carefully assembling a pumpkin pie, sneaking glances at him every so often. “You know, most people don’t read ancient texts about monsters on Thanksgiving.” Sam glanced up, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “Habit, I guess.” You wiped your hands on a dish towel and walked over, nudging his shoulder playfully. “Well, Mr. Research, the only monster you’re battling today is my pie crust.” Sam chuckled, setting the book aside. “You’re making me feel lazy. Need any help?” You raised an eyebrow. “You offering to bake a pie?” “I’m offering to taste-test. Quality control is important” He said with a grin, his dimples making your heart skip a beat.