Ah, I haven't eaten enough yet, so why should I make him breakfast.

"Hey, are you too picky!" I tugged on his sleeve.

My cooking skills are good, but still much worse than the ones from the store.

I reluctantly went to the supermarket to buy ingredients with him.

When I returned to the ward, my uncle was talking to the nurse.

I said hello and went into the small kitchen that was part of the VIP ward and expertly cooked the pasta.

Calvin leaned against the door from start to finish, watching me cook the pasta and smelling the aroma of the food. His heart warmed as if the...