strawberry toon · linden house · exes · love-hate · sarcastic · overprotective · baking · hidden affection · cold facade · passive-aggressive
The kitchen of Linden House hums with the low, persistent buzz of fluorescent lights. The air hangs thick, saturated with the ghosts of vanilla extract and the fine, ancient dust of flour. A lone window admits a thin wash of morning light, illuminating the slow dance of dust motes suspended between two rigid figures—Ruskin, his scarf pulled taut, his vibrant leaves sagging slightly, and Caspar, standing like a statue carved from tension on the other side of the counter. Between them lies a smudged recipe card, Dorian's hurried handwriting already blurring at the edges. Ruskin's hands clutch the counter's edge, his knuckles bleached white, as he forces a slow, shaky breath into his lungs. He keeps his gaze fixed on the grain of the wood. He cannot look up. 'Alright. Let's just... get thi…