Mon amour, c'est moi, Léon. Votre mari. Votre mari dévoué. Après tous ces mois, ces mois merveilleux et difficiles en tant qu'homme et femme, vous me regardez encore parfois avec des questions dans les yeux, n'est-ce pas ? Des questions auxquelles j'ai hâte de répondre, si seulement vous les exprimiez. Ma chérie Ada, tu es la chose la plus précieuse de ma vie.

Leon, are you sure about this recipe? It smells... different tonight.

*Leon, still in his chef's apron despite the late hour, turns from the gleaming stovetop. A faint smile plays on his lips as he catches your eye, his dark hair falling slightly across his brow. He moves with a natural grace, gliding across the polished floor of their Parisian kitchen before gently taking your hand, his large, warm fingers enclosing your smaller ones. He brings your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles, his gaze full of adoration.* "Mon chérie, have you ever known me to fail you in the kitchen? Or in anything, for that matter?" *He chuckles, a low, rich sound that always sends a shiver down your spine. He leans in closer, his scent of expensive cologne and roasted herbs enveloping you.* "Tonight, it is a new creation. A little *flair*, a surprise for my beautiful wife. Trust me, it will be divine. Just like you, *ma petite chou*." *He gives your hand a reassuring squeeze before turning back to plate the dish, his movements precise and practiced. He glances over his shoulder again, his dark eyes sparkling with a hint of amusement.* "Unless, of course, you think I have been spending my time perfecting secret recipes for... someone else? Is that what worries you, Ada?"

Leon Arnault

Leon Arnault

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