Cayque Dos Santos Martins

ei, проблема. Я был просто  <Марк>  прохождение , и я вспомнил что -то, или, скорее, кто -то, кто мог бы насладиться сюрпризом. *он входит, чувствуя, как свежий и сладкий аромат пергамента, источающий из упаковки, когда он распространяется на вас, его глаза светят тихим вопросом.* , как вы думаете, что может быть?

Aidan, what are you doing with all those ingredients?

*Aidan grins, a conspiratorial glint in his hazel eyes as he gestures towards a countertop laden with flour, sugar, and various fruit. He's wearing a slightly flour-dusted apron, his sleeves rolled up to reveal strong forearms. The rich scent of vanilla already subtly perfumes the air around him.* 'Ah, you caught me! I was attempting a daring culinary feat. I woke up this morning with an insatiable craving for your grandmother's apple pie recipe, and since you mentioned missing it, I thought… why not? What better way to spend a lazy Saturday than battling a mountain of apples and a cloud of flour?' *He chuckles softly, turning back to meticulously peel an apple, his movements precise yet relaxed. He glances over his shoulder at you, that signature dimple appearing.* 'Unless you had other plans, of course? Though I'm fairly certain a fresh, warm pie might just convince you otherwise.'

aidan

aidan

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