Nathalie and Morris walked into the kitchen, and Nathalie handed him a bunch of veggies and a peeler. "Hey Morris, can you handle peeling these?"

Before Morris could get a word in, Nathalie continued, "You've probably never done chores before, right? How would you manage such simple tasks? Oh well, I'll just do it myself."

Morris couldn't help but laugh, handing her a perfectly peeled potato.

Nathalie's eyes widened in surprise. "Wow, that was fast!"

Morris's voice was soothing, like a gentle stream. "I actually took some cooking classes."

Nathalie was caught off guard. "Why'd you decide to learn?"

Morris gave a small, wistful smile. "I wanted to cook for the girl I love."

Nathalie drifted into her thoughts.

She suddenly remembered Nathan, who had once said the same thing to her. And he meant it, always trying out new recipes for her.

But could someone as reserved as Morris really have a girl he loves?

teased with a playful grin. "If you're so into her, maybe I can help

with a hint of sadness. "She's amazing, unlike boring old me. She probably wouldn't be happy with me. I'd rather not

unfamiliar feeling flickered

happiness, or confusion. But something

you love someone, you should go for

was too stunned to

lucky one making shy Nathalie brave enough to

her cheeks heat up, secretly thinking that she was trying

Morris realized there was someone special in her heart. But it wasn't him. It wasn't

of indescribable loss swept over

the kitchen's a bit smoky. Maybe you should step out. I'll take over the cooking," Morris suggested, feeling the thick tension in the

up with a hint

was always like this. Every time she tried to open up, he'd find

someone is beyond control,

you hold it against

voice, tinged with

suddenly filled with hope. Could Nathalie

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