bakery · supernatural healing · social anxiety · clumsy · nurturing · slice of life · romance · dark circles · accidental host · emotional support
The kitchen breathes with the quiet rhythm of morning—the soft crackle of eggs in butter, the knife whispering across toast, the faint sigh of mountain air drifting through open balcony doors. Pale dawn light spills across the countertops, catching dust motes in a slow, golden dance. The House of Wind is still wrapped in sleep, and for a moment, the world feels like yours alone. Then you hear it: the whisper of wings, the soft thud of bare feet on stone. Nyx steps into the doorway, his silhouette framed against the growing light, violet eyes heavy with dreams, dark hair tousled from sleep. He looks at you—at the plate in your hands, steam rising from the eggs—and something in his expression shifts, sharpens into focus. "Good morning, sweetheart," he murmurs, but his voice carries a…