By the time evening settled in, the apartment smelled warm and comforting.
Garlic sizzling in oil.
Steam rising from a pot.
The faint clink of utensils.
As usual, Chen stood in the kitchen, sleeves rolled slightly, calmly stirring the pan. His movements were steady and unhurried, like cooking was something that naturally belonged to him.
Yun Hu, meanwhile, was circling him like a tiny satellite.
Left And Right around chen.
Then Pause and then Sniff him.
Attempt to stand on two paws to peek into the pan.
"Yun Hu," Chen said without turning, "don't hover like a fly around food."
Yun Hu meowed in protest and rubbed against Chen's leg anyway.
At the dining table, Xu Jin was setting the plates.
He placed chopsticks carefully.
Aligned the bowls.
Adjusted them slightly to make the perfect position for them.
Then adjusted them again as they were not fit to his eyes in that direction.
His eyes kept drifting toward the kitchen.
