Dolly blinked, clearly taken aback by the complexity of his order. Her enthusiasm dimmed for a split second before she plastered on a wide, determined smile. "Of course, darling. That sounds… wonderful. I'll get right on it."
As she turned and made her way to the kitchen, Steffan allowed himself a small, satisfied smirk.
He could hear the clatter of pots and pans, Dolly muttering under her breath as she tried to remember the steps to each dish.
She had never been much of a cook, and he knew this meal would be a challenge for her. Exactly as he intended.
With Dolly occupied, Steffan leaned back in his chair, finally able to breathe without the oppressive weight of her presence. He so needed this moment to regain some level of sanity.
The scent of burnt butter wafted through the air, followed by a loud curse from the kitchen.
Steffan stifled a chuckle, listening as Dolly scrambled to salvage whatever she was attempting to cook.
