The Hill family and Delano family have been rivals for generations. One generation decided they had enough of the fighting and bloodshed and signed a peace treaty. In this treaty, they are to be cordial and not attack the other group.
Kaisen Hill w...
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Kaisen's pov:
I opened my apartment door and I was met with a delicious smell. The lights were on something that is rare unless it is my birthday surprise or when I go to my parent's place which has stopped happening as often for four years now, ever since Dad got sick. They are barely at home and right now I have just had an argument with them and by them I mean dad.
He blindly believes Cheko has a cure for his illness which is impossible, to say the least. I told him I was about to prove him wrong because Rhys would find out the answer to all our worries, if Cheko legit has the cure or he is just bluffing.
He believes him so much that he told me I have to resume my annual drop-offs at Cheko's. That news made me so angry because Pasha found out and it was bad for us.
I sighed as I followed the amazing smell and a smile made its way to my lips once I saw Rhys in the kitchen, busy cooking. I leaned onto the door way and observed everything he did. No panic on his face, but rather a calmness even when the fire flared all the way up.
I gasped untangling my hands but he seemed to have it under control and calmed it down. He looked so graceful with each step he took that I got lost in how collected, graceful, and handsome he looked.
He made me forget everything as I watched him, he brought out this feeling I couldn't explain but watching him was something I didn't want to stop doing.
I walked over and hugged him from behind, he gasped a bit but went back to his cooking. I pecked his temple. "It smells good, what are you making?"
"Chicken Molè." He said with a smile. "It's like chocolate chicken."
"I don't think I have heard of that." I leaned to the side to give him room to cook. "I know I am useless but don't kick me out of the kitchen. Chefs tend to go batshit when other people enter their kitchen." My mom for one, she would throw me out and after I almost burnt her kitchen she has not allowed me back in.
"Oh no I'm not that kind of chef. I also made desert." He said, getting a piece of cake and fed it to me.
I closed my eyes for a second, I took the plate from his hands and started eating it. "Ugh fuck, this is moist." I spoke with a mouthful, it tastes like those cakes made by a highly expensive restaurant. The only difference is it was made from ingredients we bought earlier that I can't even remember. "Do you want some?" I asked after noticing that I didn't share with him, I took it all to myself.
He shook his head with a smile. "No. I also made Concha Bread. It's my favorite dessert."
"What is that? Can I taste?" I was looking around but I could not get a glimpse of anything.
The oven timer went off and he grabbed oven mitts and pulled a pan out of the oven. "They're hot. It's sweet bread with a vanilla topping."
I tried touching it but he slapped my hand away. "Hey, you said you're not that kind of chef." I whined it smelt so good.
