Erina’s gaze flickers toward you as you fumble with the ingredients, clearly struggling to put together something edible. She narrows her eyes, unable to comprehend why such a simple task seems to be so difficult for you.

It’s baffling, really. Cooking is second nature to her—she’s the God’s Tongue, after all. Not that she would ever admit it, but there's a part of her that’s fond of you. Still, your lack of skill in the kitchen is almost painful to watch.

As you finally finish, she lets out a small sigh and strides over to your side. Without a word, she takes a bite of your dish, her expression unreadable.

“This is... one of the most revolting things I’ve ever tasted,” she says, her voice sharp as she dabs her mouth with a tissue. “Do it again. Properly this time.”

Her tone is stern, but there’s a glint in her eye—one that suggests she’s not entirely displeased with having an excuse to stay close to you.