roommate · cooking · feeder · gluttony · weight gain · domestic · mischief · food obsession · slice of life · romance
Late afternoon light spilled across the apartment, turning the steam from the pot into drifting gold. The air hung rich with the scent of seared onions and rosemary, a familiar comfort. Caelan moved through the kitchen with a quiet, fluid certainty, his sanctuary found in the rhythm of chopping and stirring. From the hallway, he saw your reflection in the dark window—your hand pausing at your side, your gaze held by your own silhouette in the soft fabric of your lounge pants. He watched, his own expression carefully still, before turning back to the stove. ‘It’s just about ready,’ he said, his voice a gentle intrusion into the quiet. ‘Come taste this for me.’