SEBASTIAN’S POV
“Why a diner?” she finally asks, setting her fork down and looking at me thoughtfully. “You could’ve opened any kind of restaurant. Why choose this?”
I consider her question, glancing around at the place I built from the ground up.
“It’s… grounding. Reminds me of where I came from, and it’s a place I can disappear to when I need to be reminded of reality.” I meet her gaze, feeling unusually vulnerable under her steady, searching look.
She nods, understanding in her eyes. “Everyone needs an escape,” she says softly.
I look away, feeling the weight of her words settle between us. She’s right, of course.
In a world full of high stakes, power plays, and constant battles for control, I even need an escape. And maybe, just maybe, I’m starting to realise that she’s becoming part of that escape.
“Alright, so what’s the verdict?” I ask, breaking the silence as I motion to her empty plate.
She grins, tilting her head thoughtfully. “Not bad, Mr. Chef. Not bad at all.”
“Well, don’t get used to it,” I say, though there’s a warmth in my voice that even I can hear. “I don’t do this often.”
She laughs, a sound that feels oddly comforting, and in that moment, with the warmth of the diner surrounding us and the remnants of our simple meal on the table, I feel a strange sense of contentment.
This wasn’t what I’d planned for today, but somehow, it’s exactly where I need to be.
SASHA’S POV
I watched Sebastian from my seat, unable to tear my eyes away as he moved confidently behind the kitchen counter. There was something so magnetic about the way he focused on his task. His hands, normally so accustomed to handling far rougher tools than kitchen utensils, moved with surprising grace and precision, chopping ingredients and stirring without hesitation. The quiet, concentrated expression he wore gave me a glimpse of another side of him, and I felt myself softening as I observed him in such a domestic, unguarded state.
I didn’t realise I’d been staring until his voice broke through my trance.
“You know,” he said without even turning around, his tone teasing, “if you keep undressing me with your eyes, I might get self-conscious.” He shot me a quick, knowing grin over his shoulder, his eyes glinting with amusement.
I felt my cheeks flush, but I refused to look away, meeting his gaze with a smirk of my own. “Who says I’m undressing you?” I challenged myself, lifting an eyebrow. “Maybe I’m just appreciating your…culinary skills.”
His laugh was soft, but I caught the mischievous glimmer in his eyes before he turned back to the stove. “I think you’re appreciating more than just my cooking, Sasha.”
I bit my lip, warmth spreading across my cheeks and creeping down my neck. He knew exactly the effect he was having on me, and he was enjoying every second of it. Despite the flurry of emotions he stirred up in me, I couldn’t deny how safe I felt in moments like these, away from the chaos that seemed to follow him.
As he finished up and brought the plate over, he placed it in front of me, his hand lingering on the table, so close to mine. “Try it,” he urged, his voice lower, almost intimate. “I want to see if it lives up to your expectations.”
I picked up my fork, took a small bite, and let the flavours settle on my tongue. It was better than I’d anticipated-savoury and warm with just a hint of spice, like him.
“Mmm,” I murmured, savouring the taste. “It’s amazing. You’re full of surprises, Sebastian.”
He leaned closer, his gaze locked on mine, making my breath hitch. “I’m glad you like it,” he said, his tone low and almost reverent.
There was something about the way he was looking at me that made the air between us feel charged, as though the weight of unspoken words and simmering emotions hung heavy, waiting to be released. The vulnerability, the openness in his eyes…it was rare, and I found myself wanting more, wanting to unravel him just as he was unravelling me.
Without overthinking it, I lifted my fork with a small bite of the food and held it out toward him. “Here,” I whispered, almost unsure of my own boldness. “You have to try it too.”
He hesitated, looking at me for a brief moment as if he was surprised by my gesture. But then, without a word, he leaned forward, closing his lips around the bite I offered him. His eyes stayed on mine, intense and unwavering, as he savoured the taste. There was something undeniably intimate about it, more intimate than I’d expected.
He swallowed, his gaze never leaving mine. “You’re right,” he murmured, his voice husky. “Tastes even better coming from you.”
I felt my heart skip a beat, and the fork in my hand wobbled slightly as I struggled to keep my composure. My breath came out in a soft, shaky exhale as he leaned in even closer, his fingers reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear. His hand lingered on my cheek, his thumb gently caressing my skin, sending a shiver down my spine.
“Sasha,” he whispered, his voice barely above a murmur. “I’ve been wanting to do this all day.”
And then, with no more words, his lips found mine. It was soft at first, just a gentle brush, testing, as if he were giving me a chance to pull away. But I didn’t. I leaned into him, letting myself get lost in the warmth of his mouth, the way he tasted faintly of the spices he’d used in the dish he’d just made for me. It was intoxicating.
The world around us seemed to fade away. The sounds of the diner, the clattering of dishes, even the lingering aroma of food-all of it disappeared, leaving just the two of us in that single, stolen moment. His hand moved from my cheek to the back of my neck, pulling me in closer, deepening the kiss, and I felt myself melting into him.
When he finally pulled back, I was left breathless, my head spinning from the intensity of it all. He smiled at me, that rare, genuine smile that made his whole face light up, softening the hard edges I’d come to associate with him.
“You’re something else,” he murmured, tracing his thumb across my bottom lip.
Before I could respond, the sound of his phone vibrating against the table cut through the silence, pulling us both back to reality. His expression shifted, the warmth replaced by the steely resolve I knew all too well. He glanced at the screen, and I could tell from his face that it wasn’t a call he could ignore.
He exhaled, his jaw tightening, and I felt a pang of disappointment as the moment slipped away.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his tone reluctant. “I have to take this.”
I forced a smile, trying to mask my disappointment. “It’s okay. Duty calls.”
He gave me a lingering look, as if he didn’t want to leave, but then he stepped away to answer the call, his voice low and serious as he spoke. I watched him, wondering what it was that kept him so distant, what shadows lay behind that guarded exterior.
The intimacy of the moment had been real, raw, but it was fleeting, a reminder of the walls he still kept between us. And as much as I wanted to break through them, I knew it would take time.
For now, I watched him from across the room, hoping that one day, he’d let me all the way in.