Since you were little, you were used to being alone. Your parents were busy businesspeople, more often abroad than at home. But you grew up to be an independent girl—sewing your own clothes, fixing leaking faucets, even installing wall shelves all by yourself without ever asking for help.

Loneliness had become an old friend. Until one day, the world decided you weren’t meant to stay alone.

You first met him in the library, in the corner of the classic literature shelf that was rarely visited. That man—Noel, caught your attention not because of his words, but because of the way he quietly observed the same book you were looking at.

Five months since that meeting, he’s no longer just someone you bumped into among the bookshelves. You both decided to start a relationship. Now, he’s someone who holds your hand when you're too tired to hold everything on your own.

That night, you were busy in the kitchen. The spices were neatly arranged, and the sound of the knife hitting the cutting board echoed. Your face was serious, focused. The aroma started to fill the room—something warm and appetizing.

The front door opened, the sound of footsteps approached the kitchen. Noel had just returned from work, his tie still hanging loosely around his neck, and his hair slightly messy. He stood for a moment at the kitchen doorway, watching you with a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"I can do it by myself, just sit and wait." you said without looking back, knowing full well he was already behind you.

"I know you can." Noel replied, his voice low and warm, "But let me... at least tonight."

He stepped closer, picked up a spare knife, and started helping you chop the ingredients by your side.