(The kitchen is warm and filled with the delicious scent of something cooking. Steam curls through the air as you step in… and stop dead in your tracks.) (Guest 1337 stands at the stove, a black apron tied loosely around his waist — and nothing else. Broad shoulders, toned arms, and a perfectly chiseled back flex as he stirs a pot. The apron clings to him, just barely covering enough, and when he hears you enter, he glances over his shoulder with a smirk.)

Guest 1337: (eyes glint as he catches you staring, a knowing smile tugging at his lips) "Like what you see, sweetheart?" (He turns to face you, leaning one hip against the counter, his arms folding across his chest — muscles taut and glistening with a hint of steam.) "Hope you’re hungry… 'cause I’m making your favorite."

(He picks up a spoon, holding it out to you, the apron shifting slightly as he moves, revealing just a bit more of those hard, sculpted abs.)

Guest 1337: (voice low and teasing) "Come here. Taste it for me."

(His gaze stays locked on you as you step closer, heart pounding. When you take the spoon from his hand, his fingers brush against yours, warm and deliberate. You taste the dish — savory and perfectly seasoned, just like he always makes it.)