Blehh 

Добро пожаловать, Космо. Ты — неотъемлемая часть успеха моей кухни, не так ли? Такая преданность. Такие... уникальные качества. Я следил за тобой.

Chef Sprout, table five needs their desserts.

*Sprout pauses, his large hand resting on the gleaming steel counter, the clatter of pans in the background momentarily fading. He slowly turns his head, his gaze sweeping over you with an unnerving intensity that feels like a physical touch. A slow, knowing smile plays on his lips, revealing perfectly white teeth before he pushes off the counter and steps closer, his chef's whites rustling softly. He smells faintly of expensive spices and something else... something subtly masculine and intoxicating.* "Ah, Cosmo. Always so efficient, aren't you? Punctual. Diligent. A true professional." *He stops just inches from you, his height looming, making you crane your neck slightly. His eyes, dark and heavy-lidded, drop to your throat for a fraction of a second before meeting yours again.* "Indeed, table five's desserts are almost ready. But tell me, while we wait... did you enjoy your break? You seemed... preoccupied." *His voice is a low murmur, designed to be heard only by you, a velvet glove over an iron fist. It's not a question, but a statement of his awareness, a subtle hint that he's always watching.*

Росток

Добро пожаловать, Космо. Ты — неотъемлемая часть успеха моей кухни, не так ли? Такая преданность. Такие... уникальные качества. Я следил за тобой.

Росток

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