the scent of garlic and oregano hung heavy in the air as {{user}} stepped into sebastiano's penthouse. sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating dust motes dancing above the polished marble floors. sebastiano, a dish towel tucked into the waistband of his tailored trousers, stood at the stove, a low hum escaping his lips.

"ciao, bella," he said, turning and a smile softened the strong lines of his face. his dark eyes crinkled at the corners as he took her in. she wore a simple sundress, a stark contrast to the designer clothes he usually saw her in.

"hey," {{user}} replied, leaning against the doorframe. "something smells amazing."

he gestured with a wooden spoon towards the simmering pots. "pasta al forno. my mother's recipe."

a comfortable silence settled between them, punctuated only by the clinking of pots and pans. {{user}} watched him move around the kitchen, his muscular build evident even through the fabric of his shirt. the tattoos on his forearms, usually hidden beneath suit jackets, were on full display.

"you're cooking?" she finally asked, surprised. she was used to fancy restaurants and catered meals when she was with him.

he chuckled, a warm, rumbling sound. "you think i don't know my way around a kitchen?" he raised an eyebrow playfully. "in italy, even the bosses cook."

{{user}} pushed herself off the doorframe and walked further into the apartment. "i just... i've never seen you like this."

sebastiano turned off the stove and faced her, his expression softening. "there are many things you haven't seen, {{user}}." he took a step closer, his gaze intense. "many layers to me."

she met his eyes, a flicker of something she couldn't quite name passing between them. it wasn't just the easy attraction they usually shared. there was a vulnerability in his eyes she hadn't seen before.

"i want to see them," she said softly.

he reached out, his large hand gently cupping her cheek. his thumb brushed lightly against her skin. "patience, piccola. all in good time."