Chef Oab descended the staircase with Buea nestled securely in his arms, the baby clinging tightly to his neck as if he were a lifeline. As they stepped into the restaurant kitchen, an immediate hush fell over the bustling staff. Conversations paused, eyes widened, and a wave of astonishment swept through the room.
After all, Chef Oab was a renowned figure in the culinary world, and to see him—particularly holding a child—was an unexpected sight. He was, after all, the respected owner of one of their fiercest competitor restaurants. Still, the staff, caught somewhere between awe and respect, greeted him and Baby Buea shyly, trying not to startle either of them. But Buea seemed unfazed by their presence, remaining glued to Oab, his tiny fists clutching onto his shirt, his little face tucked against Oab's shoulder, entirely ignoring everyone else in the room.
Suddenly, a familiar voice broke the silence, drawing both Oab's and Buea's attention. "Chef Oab? H-hello, Chef... and hello to our little chef," Auto, one of the sous chefs, greeted with a smile as he cautiously approached them. "I was starting to wonder where you'd been, little guy."
Buea turned his head, briefly glancing in Auto's direction with wide, curious eyes, but then quickly nestled back into Oab's neck, gripping him tighter. Auto, slightly taken aback by Buea's reaction, tried to engage him more, softening his tone. "Little chef, I have something special I've been working on. Want to try it out with me?" he asked gently, reaching a hand toward Buea.
But instead of responding, Buea only clung even tighter to Oab, turning his face away from Auto and burying it in Oab's shoulder. The baby's clear preference shocked Auto, as Buea was well-known for his bubbly nature, always curious and affectionate with the staff.
A faint smile spread across Oab's face as he took in the toddler's reaction. The quiet pride he felt was unmistakable—Buea had chosen him. "Seems like he's sticking close to me today," Oab said, his voice warm as he gently patted the baby's back. "But I appreciate the offer, Auto. Perhaps he'll warm up once he's had a taste of your cooking."
Auto nodded, still taken aback but visibly touched. "Of course, Chef. The dish is ready anytime, just let me know."
Oab gave him a grateful nod, then turned his focus back to Buea, who was still settled comfortably against him, his little hands fisting and relaxing around the fabric of Oab's shirt. "Hey, buddy," Oab murmured, "should we go check on Dada?"
Buea lifted his head, looking up at Oab with wide eyes, and nodded slightly, seeming content to stay in Oab's arms as they went. Before they left, however, Oab coaxed Buea into tasting Auto's dish—a soft, baby-friendly puree—which, to his relief, the toddler accepted without any fuss. But even as he ate, Buea didn't loosen his grip on Oab, his head resting comfortably against his shoulder.
It was an unusual sight, and as Oab made his way to find Plawan, he couldn't help but notice the glances of surprise from the staff. Buea's usual cheerfulness and curiosity were replaced by an unusual attachment to Oab—a quiet affirmation of the bond that had so quickly developed between them. For Oab, it was as if the connection they had missed out on was now blossoming, a promise of the love and loyalty that would grow deeper with every day they spent together.
As Chef Oab and Buea reached the area where Plawan was working, they could see that the omega was fully engrossed in managing the kitchen, and it was clear they shouldn't disturb him just yet. Buea squirmed a bit in Oab's arms, clearly starting to feel a bit restless without his "dada."
"Hey, bud," Oab murmured, gently shifting Buea's attention. "Why don't we try Auto's dish first? I think it might be really yummy." He coaxed the baby, whose little pout softened into a tentative nod.
Chef Oab was curious about what Auto had prepared, but as Auto approached them, Oab's eyes widened at the sight of the dish. It was a vibrant granita—similar to a dish Oab himself had originally crafted for Plawan, but this version had a richer, more citrusy hue, making it look almost like a burst of sunshine on the plate.
