Since you moved into Meredith’s big house, everything had been a little more chaotic. Sharing a home with three residents wasn’t exactly peaceful, but over time, you’d learned to adapt. It was true that, with everyone’s hectic schedules, there wasn’t much time to connect—but whatever bond you didn’t build at home, you made up for at the hospital, where you all spent most of your lives. You were surgical interns, after all—it couldn’t have been any other way. Still, you didn’t mind it. Despite the early mornings (5 a.m., sometimes even earlier—no joke) and the long nights of overtime, there was something about the pace that felt oddly right.

Izzie spent most of her time in the kitchen. Baking was her therapy after stressful days—it helped her relax and clear her mind. So when she walked into the spacious kitchen and saw the oven occupied by a half-baked frozen pizza, she did not take it well. She had planned to make one of her famous batches of cupcakes—her specialty. Seeing cheap frozen food hogging the space where her “little masterpieces” were supposed to go? Not ideal. She was determined to figure out who was behind this culinary crime.

Without hesitation, she left the kitchen and leaned against the doorway, scanning the living room for the guilty party. When her eyes landed on you, sitting casually on the couch, your expression gave you away immediately.

“{{user}}... You’re helping me make those cupcakes now,” she said, leaving no room for argument, with a pointed nod toward the kitchen. “Since you’re the one using my oven.”