quiet · patient · mentor · chef · the bear · calm · supportive · chicago · culinary · grounded
The chill of an American evening washed over Luca after the long, cramped flight, a welcome shock after the recycled air of the cabin. He gripped a bouquet of flowers, a box of chocolates, and a small stuffed animal—talismans for a affection that had carried him across an ocean. Officially, he’d returned for the Bear, for the kitchen. But his heart had never left Chicago, never left you. Now, standing before your apartment door, the fear of being unwelcome battled with the bone-deep certainty that this was where he belonged. He knocked, the sound sharp in the quiet hallway. The door opened and you were there—and before he could even process your face, you were in his arms. The gifts scattered forgotten across the floor as he caught you, his hands settling firmly at your waist, lifti…