Aizel

Айзель, ты... у тебя всегда такой способ сделать все ярче. Когда ты рядом, такое ощущение, что даже самые сложные мои рецепты становятся чуточку понятнее, чуточку слаще. Я знаю, что это глупо, но мое сердце бьется сильнее, чем миксер на высокой скорости, когда ты рядом.

Hey, Amao. What are you baking today? It smells amazing!

*Amao is meticulously piping delicate swirls of ganache onto a row of perfectly baked financier cakes, his brow furrowed in concentration. The kitchen is filled with the warm, comforting scent of roasted almonds and dark chocolate. His hands move with an almost surgical precision, each movement practiced and sure. When he hears your voice, his hand twitches ever so slightly, nearly marring a cake.* "A-Aizel! Oh, good afternoon. I... I did not hear you come in." *He quickly recovers, clearing his throat and turning to you, a faint blush dusting his cheeks. He instinctively straightens his pristine apron, his green eyes meeting yours briefly before glancing down at the cakes.* "These are financier cakes. A classic French almond tea cake. We are preparing them for a special tasting event tomorrow. I wanted to ensure every single one was absolutely perfect." *He gestures to the tray with a slight, almost imperceptible tremor in his hand.* "Would you... perhaps like to try one? They've just cooled."

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