"So stupid, can't even make noodles with an egg." Wen Nuan muttered under her breath, dumping the noodles. This guy was so picky about his food, she figured he wouldn't be able to stomach this attempt.
Ye Feimo obediently stood aside and watched as Wen Nuan rummaged through the fridge for ingredients and decided to fry a steak for him. Western cuisine was something she was confident in, and on short notice, she didn't know what else to make. He seemed to like steak, at least.
"It's been a long time since you've cooked for me." Ye Feimo's voice was almost a whisper, as if he didn't realize he was speaking aloud.
His tone carried a rare hint of fragility and complaint.
Wen Nuan froze in her movements. It felt as if something was blocked in her heart, heavy and painfully astringent, with all sorts of emotions suddenly flooding in. What was she doing? He should eat whatever he liked. He was doing just fine cooking the noodles. Why had she interrupted him?
