Aldrich wasn’t sure when exactly Hermelyn managed to destabilize the rhythm of his day, but somehow, without warning, and without a force, she did.
And today was no exception.
Hermelyn stood in his front with a stubborn tilt of her chin, arms at her hips, her energy radiating like a tiny storm packed into a small frame.
He should have known something ridiculous would come out of her mouth. Something impossible. Something only she could say with a straight face.
“You heard me.”
Aldrich blinked. “You want me to cook?” he repeated, as if he genuinely believed she might take it back.
“Yep!” she nodded cheerfully.
“No one asks me to cook,” he insisted, deadpan.
“I am asking.” Hermelyn pointed at him with the confidence of a queen declaring war.
“Hermelyn..?” he tried again, tone laced
