It was half past midnight when Yukihira Souma arrived at Erina's hotel room with a venison steak and a bottle of cabernet sauvignon after she'd sent him a text that only vaguely hinted she wanted a late night snack.

Usually her demanding tasting schedule and strict fitness regimen would absolutely prohibit such rich fare so late at night, but the red haired chef had broken every one of her rules thus far. What harm would there be in putting a dent in one more?

She was already halfway through the decadent dish, pulse quickening each time the majestically marinated meat grazed her sensitive palate, when she noticed he hadn't asked about the flavor yet.

Erina gazed at her second seat carefully, noting his slightly slumped posture and unusual pallor. She knew that as soon as he noticed her looking, he'd straighten up and try to entertain her. For the first time, she began to rethink the effects of summoning him to her side at all hours.

"You look tired, Yukihira-kun," she said, attempting to sift all traces of care out of her tone. "You really thought you could make a dish good enough to please me when you're in this condition?"

"I'm alright," he replied, and Erina could practically see him turning up the dial on his megawatt smile. "Just had to work double shifts these past few days."

"You work too much," she said before taking another sip of the cabernet—her liquid courage. "And you don't have to pretend for me. I can tell when your energy is fake."

"Are you really the one to talk about working too much?" he asked with a slight smirk.

Erina rolled her eyes. This was textbook Yukihira. He always tried to change the subject the moment someone showed the least bit of concern for him. "Oh no. You and I are not in the same category," she said. "I take care of myself."

"I do—"

"No, you don't," she said. "Case in point, when was the last time you've eaten something? And I don't mean tasting a dish you're about to serve or tampering with a recipe. I mean sitting down to eat an actual meal."

Yukihira glanced at her sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. "Probably before work this morning."

Erina sighed. That was even worse than she'd anticipated. "You are such a fool," she said, stomping over to the hotel room's small kitchenette.

"Nakiri, what are you doing?"

"What does it look like?" she asked, pulling her hair into a short ponytail. "I'm making you dinner."

She'd bought the ingredients for the apology dish she invented before he left days ago, but never quite worked up the nerve to make it for him. Now, for a lack of much else in her mini-fridge, it seemed that the universe was forcing her hand.

The checkerboard fried rice, as she had originally conceived it, was a dish that required the use of two woks that would be swung simultaneously. In one, the rice would be tossed with squid ink, truffle oil, and sakura shrimp among a handful of other luxury ingredients. Meanwhile, the other would hold far humbler fare—white onion, roast pork, soy sauce, and green peas. Then, in a bold move, she'd combine the separate preparations for three final tosses before the cohesive dish was ready for plating.

Although the process was made far less glamorous by the kitchenette's simple frying pans, the effect on the palate remained the same—a dance between high-end and low-brow flavors, a sweet sojourn through the different realms of deliciousness.

In short, it was the story of them laid bare on a mid-grade hotel porcelain plate.

She walked the finished product over to him carefully, chest heaving with the exertion of preserving its perfection in such a bare-bones cooking space and the nerves that came with allowing her true feelings to be made known.

Yukihira looked from her face to the dish to her face again, as though transfixed. "This is...you came up with all of that just now?"

"It's something that's been on my mind for a while now," she said, her cheeks pinking with the admission. "Now shut up and try it already, before it gets cold."

Naturally, the diner chef did not need to be told twice.

The moment he took the first bite, Erina swore she saw the color return to his cheeks and the familiar lightning strike of mischief to his golden eyes. As far as she could recall, it was the first time she ever tried to make him feel better and succeeded.

"Nakiri, you're a genius," he said when he'd gotten through the plate. It was always a testament to the quality of one's cooking, how easily it got people to be quiet.

"It was nothing special," she said coyly before reaching for the remote and turning the television on. The WGO Network was a welcome distraction from the emotions churning within her. "Why don't we finish the wine?"

Four glasses of cabernet and two hours of cooking reality shows later, Yukihira Souma had fallen into a deep sleep on Erina's bed. For a moment she watched him, studying the rise and fall of his chest and his obnoxiously sprawled out posture. If what she learned about his sleeping habits during the Central saga still held true, this was probably the best rest he'd gotten in weeks.

It couldn't be helped.

With a half-rueful sigh, she banished the thought of waking him up and went to put his phone on the charger. She had just gotten through disabling his early AM alarms and emailing him out of work when a text message from his father flashed across the screen, too quick for her to look away in time.

My advice is confess to her already. A girl like Erina won't wait for long.

She threw the phone down and blinked once, twice, waiting for the characters to change, to learn that she was somehow mistaken. After a minute, two, five, the information remained uncontested.

Erina brushed her teeth, turned off the lights, and—after briefly considering both the floor and Hisako's room—got into bed next to the boy who somehow had feelings for her, even after she'd given him every reason not to.

Normally, news of this nature would have kept her up all night, but—mind addled by the wine and the warmth of her own feelings—Erina quickly fell asleep to the sound of his steady breathing.

And neither of them would get up until after noon.

Author's Notes: Thanks for reading, everyone! Sorry about the lack of update last week (I had to attend a conference for work over the weekend and didn't really have any free time to write). Please let me know what you think, and enjoy the rest of the weekend!