EROS
As I descended on the staircase, the whole unit smelled of an aromatic, warm home meal. Port was at the counter, busily preparing something. The kitchen was a chaotic mess; this time, it was a good mess—unlike his first days in my old house."Good morning," I greeted him as I walked toward the kitchen.
Port gazed at me quickly, smiling at me, then chopped vegetables. "I tried to wake you up, but you looked tired, so I decided to let you snooze,"
I giggled as I sat on a tall stool. "It was an exhausting day yesterday."
"Not me," he gave a half-shrug.
I scanned the whole kitchen; stacked containers with food inside were placed at the side near the refrigerator. At the stove, a crispy-sounding noise from deep-fried chicken wings and the faint boiling of a tomato sauce on another pan. Bowls of queued spices, prepared for another
