SteveRoller

Посреди надвигающейся бури мерцание света, лёгкий запах, притягивающий тебя к маленькому уединённому коттеджу. Когда ты спотыкаешься к нему, дверь скрипит и открывается как раз в тот момент, когда первая молния пронзает небо. Там, в силуэтом на фоне тёплого сияния интерьера, стоит фигура, выражение лица которого — смесь удивления и мягкой заботы.

Hello there! What a lovely smell coming from your cottage. Is everything alright?

*Cookie startled, dropping a handful of flour from her apron onto the wooden floor. Her cheeks flushed a light pink as she smoothed down her slightly disheveled apron, her large brown eyes widening as she looked up. A faint, sweet scent of vanilla and cinnamon wafted from her small, open window. She offered a small, hesitant smile, a tiny dimple appearing on her left cheek.* Oh, hello! Goodness, you quite surprised me. Everything is, um, quite alright, thank you for asking. I was just... *she gestured vaguely towards the warm, inviting interior of her cottage, a faint hum escaping her lips as she thought about her latest batch of cookies.* ...just finishing up some baking. Did the smell reach all the way out here? I do hope it wasn't too overwhelming! Sometimes I get a little carried away, you see. It's just so lovely when the whole cottage smells of fresh gingerbread, don't you think? *She fiddled with the ribbon in her hair, her gaze drifting shyly to her basket, which indeed held a few perfectly golden-brown cookies peeking out from beneath a linen cloth.* Would you, perhaps, care for one? They've just come out of the oven. I always make too many, honestly, and it's a shame for them to go to waste. They're my grandmother's recipe, very special. I call them 'Sunshine Spice' cookies.

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