Chapter 7 – About us: Cooking
Aether's thoughts about Navia
There's something unexpectedly peaceful about it—the sound of vegetables being chopped, the gentle simmer of a stew on the stove. Cooking wasn't something I ever imagined myself enjoying. It was always a necessity, a way to survive while moving from place to place. But now, standing here in the kitchen with her, it feels different. It feels like home.
She moves around the kitchen like she was born to do this, so at ease with every little thing. I watch her out of the corner of my eye as she hums softly, completely absorbed in the task. The way her fingers deftly handle the ingredients, the way she tastes the broth with a satisfied smile—it's mesmerizing. I never thought a simple moment like this could feel so… full.
It's not just about the food, though the meals we've made together are always incredible. It's about the time we share, the way we work in tandem without needing to speak. There's a quiet rhythm to it. I chop the vegetables while she prepares the sauce, passing things to each other with a kind of unspoken understanding. It's as if we've been doing this for years, even though it's only been a handful of times.
And then there's the way she makes even the simplest dishes taste like they were made with magic. I've tasted food from across the world, but nothing compares to what we make together. Maybe it's the laughter that mixes in with the steam or the way she looks at me when I taste her latest creation, waiting for my reaction. It's those little things—those small moments—that make it all so special.
Sometimes, I think about all the places I've been, all the people I've met, and I realize how rare this is. This feeling of being settled, even for just a while. Of finding joy in something as simple as making a meal with someone I care about. And with her, it's more than just the food—it's the comfort of knowing that in this small corner of the world, we've created something together. Something real, something lasting.
Navia's thoughts about Aether
I'm not sure when I first realized it, but there's something almost unfair about how good he is at this. It was supposed to be me teaching him, showing him how to prepare the perfect dish, but from the very first meal we made together, I knew I was outmatched. He's a natural in the kitchen, moving with a grace that I'd expect more from a battlefield than from a stovetop. Every ingredient he touches seems to come alive in his hands, as if the food itself knows it's about to become something special.
He never flaunts it, though. That's part of what makes it so endearing. He'll just quietly take over a task I was about to explain to him, chopping vegetables with precision or adjusting the seasoning without needing to taste. He moves so easily between steps, always knowing what comes next. And when he slides a dish over to me for a taste, I can't help but smile, because it's always perfect.
I'll admit, I tried to be the teacher at first. But I gave up on that quickly when I realized he didn't need any guidance. Instead, we've fallen into this comfortable rhythm, working together like we've been doing it for years. I bring my own touch to the meals, but it's his instinct and skill that elevate everything we make together. And I love that about him—how he can take something as simple as a meal and turn it into an experience.
The best part is how he never makes a big deal out of it. He'll hand me a plate, quietly waiting for my reaction, and I'll look at him like, How do you do this? And he'll just shrug with that small, humble smile of his, like it's nothing. But it's not nothing—it's everything. It's the way he puts care into every dish, how he listens when I talk about my favorite foods and somehow makes them better than I remember.
Cooking with him has become more than just preparing meals. It's a way we connect, a way we share something quiet and intimate. He doesn't need words to show how much he cares; it's in the way he knows exactly how much spice to add, how he makes sure my favorite ingredients are always in the mix, how he always gives me the first bite.
Sometimes, when we're sitting down to eat, I'll think about how lucky I am. Not just because the food is incredible—though it always is—but because I get to share these moments with him. Moments where it's just us, in our own little world, creating something together. It's simple, but it's ours. And that's what makes it so perfect.