Everything about her face was drawing his gaze.
His gaze was devoid of any distracting thoughts, as if he were admiring a work of art.
Just as Kōyū was engrossed in admiring the scene, Ai suddenly called his name.
"Guangyou..."
"What's wrong?" Kwang-woo asked, snapping out of his reverie.
"Dinner was pretty good tonight." Ai looked up from the TV, met Kōyū's gaze, and said softly.
"If you think it tastes good, that's fine." Kōyū was a little surprised that Ai would say that, but he was mostly happy.
This recognition, which is more important to him than the so-called Michelin three-star honor, fills him with a sense of satisfaction.
In the past, he was always alone at his dining table.
He was the only one enjoying those delicious dishes.
Now...
There's one more.
"It tastes good." Besides remembering what Kōyū said, Ai also remembered her teasing remark.
"How about it? Want to consider becoming a chef in the future?"
“It’s definitely something we can consider.” Kōyū hugged Ai a little tighter, looking into her icy blue eyes, and said softly.
"However, I'd rather be your private chef than a chef in those restaurants."
"That works too." Ai could clearly feel the warm air from Kousuke's breath, as well as the emotions in his words.
She controlled the corners of her lips from turning up, trying to keep her tone calm, and then she said:
"However, I must state in advance that you, as a private chef, will not receive a salary, insurance, or holidays."
“It’s nothing,” Guangyou asked with a smile. “What I’m more concerned about is whether this private chef job is a lifetime position.”
When faced with Kōyū's question, Ai didn't respond immediately, but instead turned her attention back to the television.
After a few seconds, she finally hummed in agreement.
After receiving Ai's response, Kousuke buried his head in Ai's hair, quietly inhaling the delicate fragrance lingering around his nose.
...
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