Just as their lips were about to meet, a sharp, burnt smell of garlic filled the air.
"My vegetables!" Anne gasped, pulling back instantly. She rushed to the stove, quickly lowering the flame. Her face fell as she stared at the slightly charred garlic. "It's burned… Now it won't taste good," she pouted, disappointment clear in her voice.
It was the first time she had cooked something for him, and it hadn't turned out as she had hoped. A wave of dejection washed over her.
Seeing her crestfallen expression, a warm sense of adoration spread through Augustine's chest. "Don't be upset," he reassured her gently. "I'd love anything you cook, even if it's not perfect."
Determined to salvage the meal, he joined her in preparing the pasta, working alongside her to make the best of what they had. Once the pasta was cooked, he poured it into a bowl and moved to set the table together.
