Timmy shrugged, though there was a flicker of something deeper in his eyes. "I guess it just came naturally. I’ve been cooking for myself since I was a kid, so it wasn’t anything new."
"Since you were a kid?" Lily’s tone was curious but gentle. "Why so young?"
Timmy hesitated again, the memories surfacing like waves crashing against the shore. "I grew up on my own, pretty much. To be exact, I don’t have parents and was raised in an orphanage, so I had to figure things out early. Cooking was just one of those things."
Her expression softened further, and she set her fork down. "That sounds tough."
"It was," Timmy admitted, though his tone remained light. "But you get used to it. I learned how to make do with what I had. Eventually, I got pretty good at it."
Lily leaned her chin on her hand, her gaze steady on him. "Well, it sounds like all that practice paid off."
Timmy felt his chest warm at her words, though he tried to hide it. "I guess it did."
For a while, the two of them ate in comfortable silence. Timmy watched as Lily tried each dish, her expressions giving away her thoughts even before she spoke.
"This fish," she said after a bite, pointing at her plate. "It’s perfect. How’d you get it to taste like this?"
Timmy smiled, finally feeling more at ease. "Just a bit of seasoning and patience. The trick is not to rush it."
Lily gave him an approving look. "You’re full of surprises, Timmy."
He shrugged, though he couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto his face. "There’s a lot you don’t know about me."
"Clearly," she said, her tone playful again.
The meal continued, the atmosphere light and easy. Timmy found himself relaxing more with each passing moment. Lily’s laughter and teasing remarks filled the room, replacing the tension from earlier.
As she reached for the dessert, she paused and looked at him. "So, do you do this for everyone, or am I just lucky?"
Timmy blinked, caught off guard. "What do you mean?"
She gestured to the table. "This. Cooking an entire feast just because I might’ve skipped a meal."
Timmy hesitated, then gave her a small smile. "Let’s just say you’re special."
Lily’s cheeks flushed slightly, but she quickly hid it by taking a bite of the dessert. "Hmm. This cake might be the best part of the whole meal."
Timmy laughed, feeling a newfound confidence. "Well, I’m glad it didn’t disappoint."
Inside, though, his heart was racing. He couldn’t believe how well things were going. He glanced at Lily, who seemed genuinely happy, and felt a pang of gratitude.
"You’ve seriously outdone yourself," she said, setting down her fork. "I don’t know how I’m supposed to go back to regular food after this."
Timmy laughed, his nerves finally disappearing. "I guess you’ll just have to let me cook for you again."
Her eyes met his, and for a moment, the playful air between them shifted into something softer. "Maybe I will," she said quietly.
Timmy looked away, pretending to focus on the empty plates, but his heart was racing.
As the meal wound down, Timmy leaned back in his chair, his mind drifting again. He thought about those early days in the kitchen, watching Samuel struggle with even the simplest recipes.
Back then, Samuel had insisted on learning how to cook to impress Zinnia. Timmy had been dragged into it, mostly because Samuel needed someone to taste-test his experiments.
Timmy smiled to himself, remembering the chaos in the kitchen. Samuel had been determined but clumsy, constantly knocking over utensils or misreading recipes.
"Timmy!" Samuel had called one evening, his voice sharp with panic. "Why is this burning? What did I do wrong?"
Timmy had rushed over, trying to salvage the scorched pan. "You didn’t stir it, boss. You can’t just leave it on the stove like that."
"Well, how was I supposed to know?" Samuel had muttered, looking genuinely frustrated.
Timmy had laughed, shaking his head. "Maybe next time, read the whole recipe before you start."
Despite the early disasters, Samuel had improved over time. And so had Timmy.
"My boss used to burn toast, soup, and even stew," he said suddenly, breaking the silence.
Lily looked up, surprised. "Really?"
Timmy nodded, laughing. "Yeah. It was pretty bad. I had to step in a few times just to make sure the smoke alarms didn’t go off."
She laughed, the sound light and infectious. "I would’ve paid to see that."
Timmy grinned. "It wasn’t pretty, but he got better. And, well, so did I."
Lily’s gaze softened again. "It sounds like you’ve been through a lot."
Timmy shrugged, his tone casual. "It’s just life. You figure things out as you go."
She studied him for a moment, then smiled. "Well, for what it’s worth, I think you did an amazing job today."
Timmy felt his cheeks warm, but he managed to keep his composure. "Thanks. That means a lot."
Living alone had forced Timmy to pick up cooking at a young age. He remembered being a grade schooler, standing on a stool in front of the stove, trying to fry an egg without breaking it.
There was no one else to rely on. Scholarships had gotten him through school, but everything else—meals, laundry, keeping the lights on—had been up to him.
Looking back, he realized how much those experiences had shaped him. They’d made him resourceful, independent, and maybe even a little stubborn.
He glanced at Lily, who was still smiling faintly as she sipped her drink. He felt a swell of relief, knowing all those years of struggle had led to this moment.
"Hey," Lily said, breaking him out of his thoughts. "You okay? You’ve gone quiet."
Timmy blinked, then nodded quickly. "Yeah, I’m fine. Just... thinking."
She tilted her head, curiosity sparking in her eyes. "About what?"
"Just... how lucky I am," he said, his voice soft.