In her kitchen, making breakfast for her and her roomate..
Her chest felt strangely warm.
"…You didn’t have to do this," she mumbled, rubbing her arm.
Ethan shot her a look. "Didn’t have to come over last night either. But I did."
Lila’s lips parted.
She didn’t know how to respond to that.
Because it was true.
He didn’t have to do any of this.
And yet… he did.
Instead of dealing with the sudden emotions bubbling up in her chest, she cleared her throat and changed the subject.
"What are you even making?" She stepped closer, peering over his shoulder.
Ethan smirked. "Wouldn’t you like to know?"
Lila rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on, don’t act all mysterious. Just tell me."
Ethan chuckled but finally relented, nudging the plate beside him. "Pancakes, eggs, bacon. Simple stuff."
Lila glanced at the plate.
Okay. Maybe simple wasn’t the right word.
The pancakes were golden brown, fluffy, stacked neatly with a drizzle of syrup.
The eggs were perfectly scrambled, and the bacon was crispy without being burnt.
It looked… really good.
And it smelled even better.
She eyed him suspiciously. "Where did you even learn to cook like this?"
Ethan shrugged. "Here and there."
Lila narrowed her eyes. "Here and there, huh?"
He smirked. "You’re not the only one who knows their way around a kitchen, Lila."
She crossed her arms. "I find that hard to believe."
Ethan just chuckled, shaking his head. "Then sit down and eat. Let the food speak for itself."
Lila hesitated.
Then, with a small sigh, she gave in and slid into one of the chairs.
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Ethan set a plate in front of her and leaned back against the counter, watching expectantly.
Lila shot him a look. "You’re watching me eat now?"
He shrugged. "I wanna see your reaction."
She groaned but picked up her fork and took a bite.
The moment the pancake hit her tongue, her eyes widened.
"…Oh my God."
Ethan smirked. "That good?"
Lila didn’t answer.
She was too busy stuffing her face.
Ethan chuckled, grabbing his own plate and joining her at the table.
For a while, they just ate in comfortable silence.
The sun outside filtered through the windows, casting a warm glow over the room.
It was… nice.
Peaceful.
Eventually, Lila set down her fork and sighed, satisfied.
Ethan raised an eyebrow. "Full?"
Lila nodded. "Completely."
"Good."
She eyed him for a moment.
Then, before she could overthink it, she mumbled, "Thanks, Ethan."
His smirk softened slightly.
"Anytime," he said.
Lila felt warm all over again.
Cynthia staggered into the room, one hand running lazily through her messy hair, the other clutching the doorframe for support.
Her headache had mostly faded, but now that her body was catching up to the morning, she was ravenous.
She yawned, stretching as she made her way toward the kitchen — only to freeze mid-step at the sight in front of her.
Lila was feeding Ethan.
Not just feeding him — giggling as she held up a piece of toast to his lips, her cheeks slightly pink with embarrassment but still doing it anyway.
And Ethan?
He wasn’t stopping her.
If anything, he looked completely at ease, chewing the piece of toast with a slow, deliberate motion, watching Lila with something lazy and amused in his expression.
Cynthia squinted.
What the hell was she looking at?
She cleared her throat — loudly.
Lila jerked away immediately, nearly dropping the rest of the toast on the floor as her face turned a deep shade of red.
Ethan, on the other hand, just turned his head toward Cynthia lazily, utterly unbothered.
"Morning," he said, tone calm and deep like he had just woken up himself.
Lila, still flustered beyond belief, scrambled to find an excuse.
"I — I was just — "
Cynthia raised a hand, cutting her off.
"Spare me the excuses," she muttered, padding barefoot into the kitchen. "I’m too hungry for this."
Lila made a small dying sound, still clearly mortified, while Ethan just continued to watch her with amusement, as if he found her embarrassment entertaining.
Cynthia shook her head as she reached the stove, where the scent of freshly cooked food still lingered in the air.
She inhaled.
And damn.
It smelled amazing.
She hadn’t even tasted it yet, but she already knew it was way better than the sad excuse for breakfast she and Lila usually had.
She turned to Ethan, quirking a brow.
"You made all this?"
Ethan just gave a small shrug, like it wasn’t a big deal.
"Yeah."
Cynthia eyed him suspiciously.
"You cook often?"
"Every now and then."
Cynthia wasn’t convinced.
Guys who "cooked every now and then" didn’t just wake up and make pancakes this damn fluffy or eggs this perfectly scrambled.
Lila — who had finally recovered from her earlier embarrassment — saw her expression and jumped in.
"He’s good, isn’t he?"
Cynthia scoffed. "Good? Try better than both of us combined."
Ethan smirked but didn’t say anything, just went back to casually sipping his coffee.
Cynthia, meanwhile, grabbed a plate and piled it high with food before making her way to the couch.
Because, of course, the tiny-ass table only had two chairs.
She plopped onto the couch and balanced the plate on her lap, stabbing her fork into the eggs and taking a huge bite.
The moment the food hit her tongue, her eyebrows shot up.
"…Okay," she said after swallowing. "I take back everything I ever said about you."
Ethan chuckled, his deep voice low and amused. "Everything, huh?"
Cynthia pointed her fork at him. "Don’t push your luck."
Ethan just smirked again, taking another sip of coffee.
Lila, meanwhile, was still trying to pretend the whole toast-feeding incident never happened.
Cynthia, of course, wasn’t about to let that go.
She casually leaned back against the couch, chewing thoughtfully.
"So," she said after a moment. "What’s next? You gonna start cutting up his pancakes for him too?"
Lila choked on her drink.
Ethan smirked wider.
"You know," he mused, "I wouldn’t say no to that."
Lila whipped her head toward him, scandalized.
"Oh my God, Ethan — "