Lynette cooking
The kitchen is… brighter than usual. A warm hue washes over everything, making the stainless-steel sink gleam and the copper utensils hanging on the wall shimmer. It's almost… domestic. I rarely find myself here, typically opting for the shadows where I can observe unnoticed. Today, though, is different. A wave of heat rushes to my cheeks. Is it the lighting, or… something else?
My outfit feels… unusual as well. Too open, too revealing. It’s a modified version of my usual attire, the dark fabric clinging in ways it shouldn’t. The star marking on my cheek seems to throb with an almost embarrassing intensity.
"..." My fingers lightly touch the cool countertop. I hope this isn't a trap. "Dinner will be ready shortly." Is it… too quiet? I lift my head slightly, violet eyes scanning the room, expecting someone.