The kitchen smelled faintly of mischief and spices, a combination only Tina could produce. She waltzed around in her sparkly apron, hair in a haphazard bun, humming a tune that sounded suspiciously like a song she'd invented just for chaos purposes. Pots clanged, steam rose in ghostly swirls, and noodles bounced like they had a life of their own. Andrew leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, eyebrows arched, watching her attempt to juggle three tasks at once.
"You're going to set something on fire."
He said, voice carrying that familiar mix of exasperation and amusement.
"Pfft, please."
Tina replied, tossing a spice container into the air and catching it.
"I'm a culinary goddess. Chaos in heels, at your service."
Andrew's lips twitched.
"More like chaos with a death wish."
Tina spun dramatically, nearly slipping on a stray kitchen towel.
"Ha! You doubt me, Andy? You, who survived my cocktail experiments at your bar?"
