Despite the lingering chaos from their ridiculous "sloth vs pig" fight, Maya's mind kept drifting back to Lav's past and everything he had carried alone for years. She wanted to do something sweet for him—just this once—because Lav had carried too much for too long. And somehow, that softened her anger into something gentler.
But that didn't mean she had forgiven him.
Or forgotten what had just happened.
Maya made her way to the kitchen, determination written all over her face.
"I want all the staff to leave for today," she said firmly.
The workers looked at her in surprise. "Ma'am, but why? We can—"
"No," she interrupted, softer this time but still firm. "You all look tired. You've worked enough."
They hesitated, exchanged glances, then finally gave in after her persistent convincing. One by one, they left, still confused but smiling at her unusual concern.
The kitchen fell quiet.
Maya tied her hair into a messy bun, rolled up her sleeves, and stared at the ingredients she had lined up neatly on the counter.
She wasn't a chef, but she wanted to try her best.
She had watched enough videos, flipped through enough recipe blogs, and read enough cooking notes to believe she could manage something simple.
"Cake… and tomato soup," she muttered to herself. "Simple enough."
She took a deep breath and began.
Flour. Eggs. Sugar. Measuring, mixing, slightly overthinking everything. A small mess already forming on the counter, but she didn't care.
For once, she wanted him to understand her feelings without her having to say a word.
And then—
"Wow."
A voice broke through the silence.
Maya froze.
Lav had walked in.
He looked around the kitchen, then at her, then at the chaos she had created.
He shook his head slowly, a faint smirk forming.
"What the hell…" he said. "I thought the moment I finished my shower, you'd be waiting with that belt of yours. But instead… I find you here trying to cook something?"
Maya's head snapped toward him.
"Shut up," she said immediately, gripping the spatula like it was a weapon. "And leave. I'm still angry. Get lost."
Lav paused for a second, then moved back slightly, not taking his eyes off her.
"Okay, okay, calm down, chef Maya."
Then, curiously, he tilted his head.
"But… at least tell me what you're cooking."
Maya's eyes widened.
"Leave," she repeated, louder this time, pointing the spatula at him like a warning.
Lav leaned back dramatically.
"Whoa—okay, okay. I get it," he said, half-laughing. "But seriously… where do you get all these weapons from? First belts, now spatulas…"
Maya shot him a glare. "To deal with annoying rats like you… or wild beasts like you."
He gave her a confused look. "Is that a compliment… or a disgrace?"
Maya didn't even look up from the counter. "Take it however your tiny brain can process it."
Lav stared at her for a moment, as if trying to decide whether he'd just been insulted or complimented.
Then a grin tugged at his lips.
"Anyways… you're dangerous, you know that?" he said finally, stepping a little closer. "Not because of the spatula… but because you act like you don't care, and then do things like this."
"Are you sure you don't want to leave? "Maya warned, glancing at the boiling water. "It's hot… it might accidentally fall on you… or maybe not accidentally." And you already know what this spatula can do."
Lav leaned back slightly, hands raised in surrender. "Okay, okay… noted. Boiling water and flying spatulas. I'll behave… for now."
Maya didn't respond. She just turned back to the stove, focused, irritated, refusing to give him any attention.
Lav didn't leave.
Instead, he walked out slowly and sat in the hall, but his eyes stayed on her the entire time.
From there, he could see the kitchen in full chaos—White flour was scattered across the counter, ingredients scattered, utensils misplaced, a mess she clearly wasn't used to.
She was annoyed, still angry at him, probably ready to hit him with that spatula again the moment he said the wrong thing… but she was here, doing this for him.
But even in the middle of the mess—and despite the irritation written all over her face—Lav's gaze softened.
It was serious. It felt like the world around him had faded a little.
And all he could see was her.
Like something in him had shifted without permission.
"She really didn't have to do all this…" he muttered under his breath, more to himself than anyone else.
For a second, the air around him felt heavier.
Then he looked away briefly, jaw tightening as if he didn't like what he was feeling.
And when he looked back at her again, something in his expression had quietly changed.
He muttered under his breath, almost helplessly, "How can this woman actually be this beautiful… ugh."
His eyes stayed locked on her.
He didn't dare look away—not even for a second.
As if looking away would mean missing something precious.
The way she focused when she was annoyed. The little pout she made when something didn't go right. The way she pushed through even when everything around her was a mess.
It all felt too real.
Too… captivating.
Lav sat there, completely starstruck, like the world around him had faded and only she remained in focus.
Even the smallest movement of hers pulled his attention back instantly.
Before he knew it, his mind had already wandered—imagining lazy mornings, shared meals, silly arguments, and a hundred ordinary moments with her that somehow felt worth looking forward to.
Just as Lav's imagination threatened to plan the next fifty years of his life, Maya's voice snapped him out of it.
"Dinner is ready…"
Lav snapped back to reality.
"Oh. Uh, yeah. Coming."
He immediately fixed his hair and shirt, then paused.
"Why am I fixing my hair?"
A second later, he fixed it again anyway before walking over.
Then Maya scratched the back of her head in embarrassment, her voice dropping a little. "I… I don't know if it'll even be good enough to eat."
Lav's expression softened instantly. He smiled. "No," he said gently. "Don't worry. I'm sure it'll be amazing."
Just then, an elderly maid walked in, slightly hesitant.
"Ma'am… I'm sorry to disturb you. I think I dropped my handkerchief here earlier."
"Oh, here," Maya said, picking it up from the counter and handing it back.
But as the maid's eyes shifted around the kitchen, she noticed the food Maya had been cooking. She paused for a moment, surprised.
"Ma'am, I—"
Before she could continue, Lav spoke calmly from the side. "You may leave now."
But Maya immediately turned. "Let her speak—why are you looking at it like that?"
She glanced between the maid and the food.
Maya's eyes widened as a sudden thought crossed her mind.
"Wait—does it look terrible? Is the soup weird? Is the cake leaning too much? "Is it because it's for him?"
The maid shook her head quickly.
"No, no, ma'am! Nothing is wrong. Everything is just so perfect. It looks very good. I was only surprised."
She tried to smile.
But Maya knew it was a fake one.
Maya pretended to believe her.
"Oh…"
The maid relaxed a little. "I'll take my leave then."
As she turned to go, Lav sighed quietly. "You really don't trust yourself, do you?"
Maya shot him a look. "I trust myself. I just don't trust your reactions."
Maya gently caught her wrist before she could turn away.
"Wait."
The maid froze.
Maya tilted her head slightly.
"Why were you shocked when you saw the food?" she asked. "I know something's wrong. Just tell me."
The maid hesitated, her eyes shifting nervously between Maya and Lav.
She looked at Lav with worry.
Lav met her gaze and gave a small, almost invisible nod.
"No…" he said quietly.
But Maya stepped forward immediately, placing herself between them. "You don't have to look at him or get approval from him. Just tell me."
Lav sighed, rubbing his temple. "Why are you so stubborn, Maya?"
Maya didn't move. "Yeah, I am. And you're no less. Come on—just let the truth out."
There was a pause.
Lav didn't look like he wanted to say it. But finally, after a moment of silence, he spoke.
"…Tell her."
The maid flinched slightly, then bowed her head.
"I'm really sorry, sir. I didn't mean to cause any trouble for either of you."
The maid swallowed. "Sir doesn't like cake… because he never celebrated his birthday—with friends or family."
She hesitated again before continuing. "And he… actually hates tomatoes too. Whatever we cook for him, we always make it without tomatoes."
"With that, I'll take my leave again. "I'm really sorry… for both of you. I didn't mean to cause any trouble, but I did. I'm really sorry, sir."
She stared at Lav politely before bending down slightly in apology.
Lav didn't say anything. His expression tightened for a second… then softened. He simply nodded, signaling her to leave.
The kitchen stayed quiet for a moment longer than usual. Maya didn't speak immediately.
Maya widened her eyes in shock. "Oh… sorry. I really didn't know. Umm…" She was still processing it.
"We'll… we'll just order, okay? Don't eat that."
She quickly pulled out her phone. "Don't worry, I just want your day to go better—"
But something else was already happening.
Lav sighed. "Hey, Maya… it's fine. I'll have it. You cooked it, so of course I'm going to eat it."
"No, Lav—" she said quickly. "I'll order something. Just wait a second."
Before she could stop him, he had already picked up the bowl of soup and taken a sip—even though it was still hot.
"Lav, oh my god—stop! Don't eat it if you don't like it!"
Lav gently held her hand, stopping her.
"You're the first person who's ever cooked something for me," he said softly. "How can I just ignore that?"
Maya froze.
"It's not about the food I hate," he continued. "It's about the person who made it… with so much care. So don't worry. I'm fine."
A small pause.
"And you know…" he added with a faint smile, "you were the first one who even made me a cake… even though today isn't my birthday."
Maya smiled a little despite herself. "Hey… I get that. But don't force yourself, Lav."
Before she could continue, he gently placed a finger near her lips, stopping her words.
Then he stood up, grabbed another bowl, and served her some soup too.
"Now try it," he said lightly. "Wow, Maya… you actually have some cooking skills. This soup is really good."
He looked at her with a small grin. "Can't wait to try the cake."
Maya smiled faintly, but her eyes glistened a little. "Why are you so happy? It's just a simple dish…"
Lav shook his head immediately. "Simple dish? No."
He looked at the bowl again, then back at her. "This is the best, most delicious food I've ever had in my life."
A soft pause followed.
For him, it wasn't about taste anymore.
It was about her.
After they finished eating, the kitchen had fallen into a calmer silence. Neither of them spoke for a while.
The chaos from earlier was gone, leaving only the quiet clink of utensils and the soft warmth between them.
Maya stood near the counter, suddenly a little unsure."…Cake," she muttered to herself.
Lav looked up from his seat. "You actually made it?"
Maya shot him a quick glance. "Don't act so surprised."
She carefully brought the small cake forward and placed it on the table. It wasn't perfect—slightly uneven, a little rough on the edges—but it was clearly made with effort.
She hesitated before speaking. "It might not be good… so don't blame me if it tastes weird."
Lav smiled faintly. "You're still warning me after everything I ate today?"
Maya rolled her eyes and cut a slice, placing it in front of him. "Just eat."
He took a bite.
For a moment, he didn't say anything.
Maya watched him carefully, trying to read his expression. "So?"
He swallowed slowly, then looked at her.
"…It's good," he said simply.
Maya immediately smirked and flipped her hair dramatically.
"Huh. I knew it. I'm a talented cook."
Lav stared at her for a second.
"You made one meal."
"A successful meal," Maya corrected proudly.
He took another bite before muttering under his breath,
"Whoever gets to eat your cooking every day is pretty lucky."
Maya heard it.
Her eyes widened slightly.
"Eww," she said immediately, pretending to gag. "Stop it. You're so cringe."
Lav nearly choked.
"Hey! You're not supposed to hear that!"
"Then don't say it out loud, genius."
"I didn't mean to."
"Sure."
Maya rolled her eyes and turned around before he could see her face.
The moment she turned her back to him, a faint blush crept onto her cheeks.
Thankfully, Lav was too busy defending himself to notice.
A quiet silence settled between them.
Lav looked down at the half-finished cake for a moment.
After a pause, he spoke softly. "For the first time, my house actually felt like a home."
Lav quickly took another bite like he hadn't just said something so heavy.
He looked at her for a moment.
"All thanks to you, Maya."
Maya didn't know how to respond.
For once, words failed her.
So she simply gave him a small, comforting smile.
And then, as if nothing happened at all, he reached for the soup again—the same one he claimed to hate tomatoes in.
Maya noticed immediately. "Hey—didn't you say you hate that?" she said, lightly hitting his shoulder.
Lav shrugged slightly, still eating. "I did."
A small pause.
"But I don't mind it when you make it."
Maya blinked, then quickly turned away, pretending to focus on the counter.
"Stop being so cheesy all of a sudden," she said lightly, trying to act unbothered. "What went wrong with you?"
After a moment, she slowly looked down at the table, pretending to focus—like she hadn't just felt her heart skip for no reason.
Lav had already finished everything—the soup, the cake, even the leftovers she didn't expect him to touch.
She blinked. "...You really ate all of it." She laughed, shaking her head.
Lav leaned back slightly, satisfied. "Of course."
A small pause.
Then he stood up, pushing his chair back gently.
"Goodnight, Maya."
Maya looked up at him. "Huh?"
He didn't tease. Didn't smirk. Just gave her a calm, soft look.
"Again… thanks for today, ma'am."
She just nodded slightly. "…Yeah. Goodnight."
Lav turned to leave, then paused at the door for a moment—as if he wanted to say something more—but didn't.
Instead, he simply walked out.
Maya stood there alone in the quiet kitchen.
And for some reason… it didn't feel empty.
Just warm.
Maya stayed in the kitchen even after Lav left.
The door clicked shut softly, but the sound lingered longer than it should have.
She looked at the empty plates… the wiped-out soup bowl… the small cake that had somehow disappeared faster than she expected.
"…He really ate everything," she muttered to herself.
A faint breath left her lips, almost like a laugh she didn't fully allow.
Then her eyes drifted back to the chair he had been sitting on. Almost unconsciously, she sat there too—she didn't know why, but she did.
Quiet.
Still.
Maya leaned against the counter, arms loosely folded, replaying bits of the evening in her head without meaning to.
His teasing. His silence when he got serious. The way he looked at the food like it meant something more than taste.
And that one line.
"For the first time, my house felt like home."
Maya's fingers tightened slightly on the edge of the counter.
"…What does he even mean by that?" she whispered.
But she didn't sound annoyed this time.
More… unsure.
She glanced at the kitchen again—at the mess she had made, the effort she had put in without really knowing why.
Then she let out a small sigh.
"Idiot," she said softly, but there was no anger in it.
Just something quieter.
She stood up and turned off the lights one by one, the kitchen slowly sinking into darkness behind her.
And as she walked out, she paused for a fraction of a second at the doorway.
"…He better not get used to this," she murmured again.
But this time, even she didn't sound convinced.
And she left.