Crouching down, Elan removed the container of rice and carefully scooped some into the cooker. Brushing his hands off on his apron, Elan walked over to the sink and drew a cup of water.

After pouring it into the cooker and setting it to a slow cook, Elan stopped for a moment and considered the matter. Here they were, he in an apron, and her in her dressing gown cooking dinner together. This struck him as rather strange, especially given how naturally this had come about.

There was something nice about it. Calm. No worrying about poison or plots, simply cooking dinner with her. The knife glistened wet as she chopped, the rhythmical pounding motions. He... could become accustomed to this.

Broken from his musing by a can toppling from a pile, Elan set the can back up, and proceeded to resume his efforts on the dessert.