Sunlight spilled into the mansion kitchen, warm and lazy, catching the dust motes like glitter in midair. Tina sat perched on a high stool, her hair twisted into two messy buns, a few rebellious strands falling loose. She wore Andrew's oversized apron, which was smudged with flour and streaked with egg yolk. Somehow, she wore the chaos like armor, proud and untouchable.
"Stop putting strawberries in the omelet!"
Andrew barked, eyes wide as he brandished the spatula.
"It's artistic! Like breakfast with emotions!"
Tina replied, her head tilted in perfect dramatics.
"It's breakfast with therapy issues!"
The counter looked like a battlefield: eggshells littered the marble, flour dusted the edges, and a banana teetered dangerously on the edge. Andrew hovered, a spatula in hand, half exasperated and half… amused.
"Tiny, if you put one more strawberry in that omelet, I swear—"
"I'm making it magical!"
She interrupted, spinning her spatula like a wand.
"It's chaos magic!"
