Ignazio
The next morning, after spending a comforting night with Danica.
I walked into the kitchen, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and sizzling bacon filling my senses.
My eyes landed on Danica, her red hair tied up in a ponytail as she expertly flipped eggs in a skillet. She was wearing one of my dress shirts, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, and a pair of her own fitted pants.
My heart swelled with pride and affection as I watched her move with ease around the kitchen. She was a natural, a true aspiring chef. I loved seeing her passion shine through in everything she did.
I moved closer, my footsteps quiet on the marble floor. Danica didn't notice me at first, too focused on the culinary masterpiece she was creating. But as I drew nearer, she sensed my presence, her eyes f
