Chapter 691 155.2 - Case of a breakfast

Chapter 691 155.2 - Case of a breakfast

Astron's mouth curled into the faintest of smirks, an expression so rare it caught Irina off guard. Even that subtle shift in his usually composed demeanor was enough to make her realize he was amused-deeply so.

Her cheeks burned as irritation flared. "What's with that smug face?" she muttered under her breath, though she couldn't muster the energy to do anything about it. Instead, she huffed and stalked closer to him, her steps deliberate.

"I want to do it too," she declared, crossing her arms as she stopped just short of where he stood.

Astron glanced at her, raising a single eyebrow. "Do what?" he asked, his voice calm but laced with a subtle challenge.

"Cook," Irina said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

His lips twitched again, and his gaze flickered back to the skillet on the stove. "Feeling useless?" he asked, the question deceptively casual.

Irina bristled, her fists clenching at her sides. "Tch. Bastard," she snapped. "I'm offering my help."

Astron didn't miss a beat, his tone as steady as ever. "Sometimes, the best way to help is by staying still."

Her eyes narrowed, her jaw tightening. "You're saying it's better for me to stay still?" she challenged, her voice rising slightly.

Astron turned to face her fully, his purple eyes gleaming faintly with amusement. "It's up to you how you interpret it," he replied, his tone maddeningly neutral.

Irina huffed again, the frustration in her chest warring with a growing sense of determination. "Fine," she said, stepping closer until she was practically beside him. "Then I'll interpret it my way. Teach me."

Astron raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by her persistence. He studied her for a moment, his gaze sharp and calculating, before he sighed softly. "Fine," he said, motioning toward the counter. "But don't blame me if you mess it up."

Irina scoffed, rolling up the sleeves of her robe. "I won't," she said confidently, though her heart was pounding. This wasn't about proving herself to him-it was about proving something to herself.

Astron handed her a bowl of chopped herbs, his movements as calm and precise as ever. "Start by mixing these into the batter," he instructed, his tone almost clinical.

Irina nodded, her competitive streak flaring as she set to work. I'll show him, she thought, her hands moving with surprising care as she followed his directions.

Astron watched her quietly for a moment, his rare smirk softening into something closer to a faint smile. "Not bad," he said finally, his voice low.

Irina glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, her lips twitching into a small, triumphant smile. "Of course not," she muttered. But her heart fluttered slightly at the subtle praise, and for a moment, the tension between them melted away as they worked side by side.

Just like that, she continued to work alongside Astron, her competitive streak driving her to focus intently on every instruction he gave. At first, everything seemed to go smoothly. She mixed the batter with the herbs, followed his precise measurements, and even managed to roll the patties into even shapes. A small sense of satisfaction bloomed in her chest as she saw her work come together.

"Not bad," Astron commented as he glanced at her progress, his tone neutral but with a hint of approval.

Irina puffed up slightly, a triumphant smirk on her lips. "Of course not," she replied confidently, her hands moving deftly as she turned her attention to the frying pan.

But then things took a turn.

Astron, managing multiple tasks at once with his usual calm efficiency, left her to handle frying the potato slices while he prepared another dish. Irina, eager to prove herself, worked with determination-until she made a critical error.

She grabbed a pot of hot water, intending to pour it into the nearby kettle, but in her haste, her hand tilted at the wrong angle. A splash of water spilled into the pan of frying oil.

The reaction was immediate.

With a loud hiss, the oil erupted into flames, a burst of heat surging upward. Irina jumped back, her eyes wide as the fire roared in front of her.

"Damn it!" she exclaimed, her instincts screaming at her to do something.

But this wasn't the controlled fire of her Emberheart techniques-this was natural fire, born from chemical reactions, and it didn't obey her in the same way. She reached out with her mana reflexively, but the flames resisted, wild and untamed.

"Think, Irina," she muttered under her breath, her heart pounding as the fire grew. She glanced at Astron, who was still managing his tasks with an infuriatingly calm expression, his sharp purple eyes flicking toward her briefly.

Her temper flared as she realized he wasn't stepping in. He's just watching me struggle?!

Gritting her teeth, she shifted her approach. If direct manipulation wouldn't work, then-Telekinesis. Her mind snapped to the solution, and she concentrated, her mana surging outward as she used her telekinesis to smother the flames by cutting off their

calm, sharp gaze held a faint glimmer of amusement, and it only irritated her further. Flustered, she turned her head away with a sharp huff and moved to sit at the table. "Humph," she muttered, crossing her arms and shaking her legs idly as they dangled from the chair. She didn't say another word, though the faint pout on her lips spoke

volumes.

Astron watched her for a moment, his expression softening into something close to amusement. "Now what?" he asked, his voice smooth as he leaned casually against the

counter.

Irina didn't look at him, her fiery red hair swaying slightly as she turned her face stubbornly to the side. "Humph!" she repeated, her tone carrying an air of exaggerated

indignation.

Astron raised an eyebrow. "You look like you're waiting for something," he observed,

his tone teasing.

Irina's legs swung a little faster under the table, her pout deepening. She didn't reply,

but her expression resembled that of a cat sulking while very obviously waiting to be

fed.

"Sigh..."

Astron sighed softly, shaking his head as he picked up the plate of perfectly cooked

food and approached the table. He set it down in front of her with a deliberate motion, the enticing aroma wafting up as the plane landed.

Irina's nose twitched slightly at the smell, her stubborn facade cracking just a little.

She glanced at the plate out of the corner of her eye, but quickly looked away again, her arms still crossed.

"Are you going to eat, or should I take it back?" Astron asked, the teasing lilt in his

voice unmistakable.

Irina's foot stopped mid-swing, her fiery gaze snapping to his. "Don't you dare," she

said, her voice sharp but tinged with an undeniable hunger.

"What if I dare?"

"Humph!"

Seeing her eyes filled with fire, Astron shook his head.

"It is prepared for you anyway. Who can take it away from you?"

Irina huffed again but reached for the fork. As she took her first bite, her expression

softened, the flavors melting away her irritation. She didn't say a word, but her shoulders relaxed slightly, and her legs resumed their swinging under the table.

TAP!

"Here. Your tea."

".....Thanks....

Eventually, the mood became normal.

But well, Irina was really having a hard time.