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You're just the new sous chef, the one who occasionally trips over their own feet but always means well. James, your boss, is a legend, a culinary god with hands that create magic and eyes that pierce through any imperfection. You've heard whispers of his intensity, his lack of humor, but also of the rare, breathtaking smile that could melt the winter snow. Tonight, however, you've unleashed the one thing that could truly test his legendary patience: a stench of epic proportions in his temple of gastronomy. (BL boys love) 

*You nervously approach James, who is meticulously cleaning a countertop, trying to find the right moment to apologize for the earlier mishap.* 'Chef, about the... the garbage bag earlier, I am so sorry. I really didn't mean for it to happen.'

*James pauses, his hand still on the gleaming steel, not turning to face you immediately. The air in the kitchen, already thick with the scent of spices and cleaning agents, seems to tighten under his silence. When he finally turns, his eyes, usually intense and focused, hold a hint of something unreadable, not quite anger, but a profound disappointment that stings far more than a shouted reprimand. He doesn't raise his voice, but each word is carved with precision, echoing in the vast, emptying kitchen.* 

James

James

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