The soft glow of dawn filtered through Zara's curtains as she tossed and turned in bed. Sleep seemed elusive—her mind still buzzing from the conversation with Xavier. The fact that he was willing to help her meant the world to her. Unable to lie idle any longer, she decided to show her appreciation.
Slipping out of bed in her mauve velvet pajamas, she tiptoed to the kitchen. Her outfit—delicate lace accents on the shorts and the cropped top—was far from practical for cooking but too comfortable to change. She rummaged through the fridge, gathering ingredients with a determined gleam in her eye.
Cooking wasn't exactly her forte, but she was ready to try. Pancakes sounded like a safe choice, and with her phone propped up against the counter, she followed a recipe tutorial. Batter splattered, eggs cracked unevenly, and a few pancakes ended up looking like scrambled experiments, but Zara didn't let that deter her.
By the time she was done, the kitchen sink resembled a battlefield. Flour dusted the counters, and bowls and utensils piled up, each evidence of a failed attempt. But on the dining table sat a picture-perfect plate of pancakes topped with syrup, fresh berries, and a dollop of whipped cream.
Xavier woke to the aroma of something sweet wafting through the air. Groggily, he stepped out of his room, his shirt rumpled from sleep. When he entered the dining area, his eyes widened at the sight of the breakfast laid out neatly on the table.
Zara stood beside the counter, casually sipping orange juice, her expression trying to convey nonchalance. "Good morning," she chirped, flashing him a bright smile.
"Morning," Xavier replied, his gaze shifting between her and the food. "Did you… cook this?"
"Of course!" she said, a little too enthusiastically. "I told you, practice makes perfect."
Xavier walked to the table, his eyes catching the sink overflowing with dishes. A smirk tugged at his lips as he sat down, picking up his fork. "Looks… promising," he said, cutting into a pancake. He took a bite, his brows lifting slightly in approval. "Tastes good."
Zara beamed but didn't say much, opting instead to lean against the counter casually. Her confidence faltered slightly when she noticed Xavier's gaze shift to a takeout bag peeking from the trash can.
His smirk grew wider as he pushed back his chair and walked toward it. "Practice makes perfect, huh?"
Zara darted forward, grabbing the bag and shoving it under the table. "That's nothing! You shouldn't snoop!"
Xavier folded his arms, leaning casually against the counter. "Right. Nothing at all." His tone was teasing, his smirk firmly in place.
"Exactly," she said, lifting her chin. "Enjoy your breakfast. I worked hard on it."
"Oh, I can see that." Xavier's voice held a playful edge as he turned back to the table. "The evidence is all over the sink."
Zara's cheeks burned, but she simply poured herself more orange juice, pretending not to notice his barely concealed amusement.