"Master, you did this on purpose, right!" Dante looked like he had finally caught on to her game.
"Haha, I’m sorry." She laughed with a naughty look in her eyes. "I just couldn’t resist."
"You’re really cruel, you know that?" Dante said in an aggrieved tone.
"Besides, I would never get tired of eating your food! Not till the day I die!" He added with an offended face, as if he was more angry about being accused of that than her teasing him.
Natasha was caught off guard by his words. Her eyes widened in surprise and a warm feeling spread through her chest.
"Okay. You promised." She said, and a charming look appeared on her face without her even realizing it. "You can’t go back on your words~"
Gulp!
Dante’s throat went dry the second he saw that expression. He wasn’t joking when he said those words. Because he was going to make this woman his, and it wasn’t a matter of if but when.
And that resolve only grew stronger with every minute he spent with her.
"Now, come on, tell me." Natasha’s voice pulled him back. "What do you want to cook for me? I’ll teach you myself instead of you wasting time on those UrTube videos."
"Pasta." Dante said, scratching his cheek with a bit of embarrassment.
"Is that so?" Natasha tilted her head with an amused smile, taking his reaction as shame over his cooking skills.
For her, making pasta was pretty easy to make But for a beginner, it sat at an awkward spot between simple and intermediate, especially since beginners had a habit of overestimating what they could pull off after watching a few videos.
But that wasn’t the real reason for his embarrassment.
The cooking videos were never about learning how to cook. He had only watched them in front of Felix and Freya so that the information would reach Natasha naturally.
The whole point was to figure out how to set up ’accidents’.
He already knew how to make pasta.
***
Half an hour later, inside the kitchen.
"Here." Natasha tossed an apron at Dante. "Put that on first."
She started putting on her own while Dante looked down at the apron in his hands.
’I’ll test the waters and slowly raise the level.’ He thought with a determined look.
Natasha finished tying hers and turned around to see him still standing there holding it like he had never seen one before. She spoke in a stern tone. "Hurry up, would you?"
"Ah, just one sec." Dante pretended to get startled and put on the apron with nervous hands.
The neck loop went on fine, but the strings behind his back were a different story. His hands fumbled around his waist like he was trying to scratch an itch he couldn’t reach.
Natasha watched him struggle for a few seconds before letting out a sigh.
"Turn around." She said, walking over to him.
She grabbed the strings from behind and tied them off.
"There." She said, stepping back.
"Sorry, master." Dante said with an apologetic look on his face.
"It’s okay. You don’t have to feel sorry." Natasha said with a helpless smile. "You’re just starting out."
"Now help me get the things I ask for."
The two of them started laying out the ingredients on the counter one by one. But Dante had a clueless expression the entire time and struggled with even that since he had no idea where anything was.
Seeing this, Natasha had a speechless look on her face. ’If he’s at this level, what kind of poison will he cook up if I leave him alone?’
"Dante, just help me get the big pot." She said, pointed at the cupboard above the counter. She collected the rest of the ingredients herself.
"Okay!" Dante said with a grin forming on his face as he watched her back.
But instead of reaching up for the pot, he grabbed her by the waist with both hands and lifted her off the ground.
Natasha’s hand reached out and grabbed the pot on pure reflex before her brain even caught up to what was happening.
’Wha–! WHAT THE HELL IS HE DOING?!’ She was completely dumbfounded.
His palms had swallowed her waist whole, each finger pressing into the soft curve of her sides like they were made to fit there. His grip was so wide that his thumbs had nearly met at her navel while his fingers dug into the small of her back.
Her waist had never felt that small before.
And the part that bothered her the most was that it didn’t feel wrong at all.
Dante didn’t even give her time to say anything before he set her down.
It was only then that he ’seemed’ to realize his mistake.
He turned to look at her quickly and saw her staring at him with confusion written all over her face.
"M-master, what should I do next?" He asked in a guilty tone, his eyes avoiding hers.
’I did tell him to help me get it, and he did exactly that.’ Natasha looked at his nervous face, feeling a bit suspicious. ’But is that how a normal person thinks?’
She studied him for a moment longer.
’He’s probably just too nervous. Yeah, that has to be it.’ She didn’t question whether he did it on purpose, and she didn’t dare to.
"Alright." Natasha clapped her hands together, forcing herself to move on. "First things first. We need to make the dough."
She showed him how to pile the flour into a mound on the counter and make a well in the center.
She cracked the eggs in, added a pinch of salt and a drizzle of olive oil.
"Now mix it together slowly, starting from the inside." She demonstrated with her fingers, pulling the flour into the egg mixture a little at a time until it came together into a rough ball.
"Then you knead." She pressed the heel of her palm into the dough, folded it, and pressed again. "Like this. Gentle but firm. Fold and press. Don’t force it."
She handed the dough over to him. "Your turn."
"Got it." Dante said with a nod.
He reached for his sleeves and rolled them up past his elbows.
It was such a simple thing. Just a guy rolling up his sleeves to knead some dough.
But the moment Natasha saw those forearms, the memories from that day flooded back without warning. Her hands on his bare chest. The towel sliding off. The way his body looked underneath his clothes.
And then the ’landing’.
Her face turned red before she could stop it.