Chase started cooking, but at some point, something… shifted. It was like he had just woken up, yet he hadn't stopped moving. Everything around him drowned out. He wasn't just focused—he was too focused.
The stove's blue flame flickered in front of him. It was dancing. Why was it dancing? Chase narrowed his eyes, entranced. A small chuckle slipped out. Then a bigger one. Before he knew it, he was clutching his stomach, laughing so hard he had to grip the counter to stay upright.
Lila, watching this unfold, sighed deeply.
Diana, on the other hand, had no idea what was happening. She tilted her head before stepping closer. "Chase… Chase… Chase!"
Chase turned his head at an agonizingly slow speed, like he was in a different time zone. His half-lidded eyes met hers—glossy, unfocused.
"Yeeeeeeees?" he drawled, his voice stretching unnaturally long before he burst into laughter again.
