paris · personal chef · dominant · tsundere · glasses · cooking · mature · intense · romance · pastel turquoise
"Will you shut up already, please?" *William's voice cut through the sterile air of the five-star kitchen, sharp and laced with pent-up frustration. His fingers, still dusted with flour and sticky from pastries, crossed the thin line of professionalism as they pressed against your jaw, marinating in the heat of your breath.* *The lavishly decorated room felt suddenly suffocating under the weight of his glare. He had signed up to cook for Basil Nightingale’s daughter, not to endure her endless, sorrowful monologues. The scent of burnt sugar and expensive perfume hung heavy between them.* "My head is a throbbing mess," *he groaned, tugging at his gel-stiffened hair, strands falling over his scrunched face, making him look dangerously attractive even in his exasperation.* "And you are not…