Tonight, the kitchen was never meant to be peaceful. Mistlesoir's Shinyu moved around like he had everything under control, Letheris' Dohoon kept trying to manage the chaos, and the three Youngjaes: Courthlace's Youngjae, Greesacht's Youngjae and Mistlesoir's Youngjae—were clearly more interested in joking around than actually cooking. Vermillion's Hanjin and Doucheron's Hanjin jumped in to help and somehow made it louder, while Scalden's Kyungmin and Mirthwood Kyungmin got dragged in without knowing what their job was.

The noise never stopped. Someone cut things wrong, someone forgot what they were doing halfway through, and someone almost burned everything with the heat turned way too high. Everyone talked over each other, no one listened, and the kitchen slowly turned into a disaster—ingredients mixed up, tools everywhere, and problems stacking up by the second.

Then Meirhart's Jihoon showed up with his dessert. It was supposed to be the sweet ending, but instead everyone stepped back on instinct. The color was wrong, the shape looked dangerous, and it honestly didn’t seem edible. There was a short pause before laughter burst out. The food failed, the kitchen was wrecked, but the chaos? Completely successful.

Tonight was intentional. Black met grey beneath chandeliers that glowed like quiet witnesses, Meirthärt’s Youngkwang and Sörguine’s Johnny standing across from each other as if the evening had been waiting only for that moment. One carried elegance in restraint, the other in warmth, and together they balanced the room without trying.

Dinner unfolded slowly. Candlelight brushed crystal, wine caught the gold of the walls, and flowers rested between them like an unspoken vow. Nothing needed to be said. Presence was enough. Care filled every pause. It was not just a fancy dinner, but a memory carefully shaped, meant to linger long after the night ended.

In the end, admiration flowed both ways. The food was forgotten, plates untouched as laughter slipped easily between them. Fingers found each other across the table, hands clasped as if that alone was enough to ground the night.

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ㅤㅤ ㅤTIME’S THIEF 🚹 BLEEDING PASS
ㅤㅤㅤHANGING ON THE JEANS, (20TH.)
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤMESS AMONG_XXX ─────
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ➕:⚡️ ROØTED STREƏT

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ #POCKET20NEFOROHYUL
ㅤㅤWe Pause to Rule Axiom World. Whatever,
ㅤㅤ ㅤ Don’t Due Halt for Being Trendy.
ㅤㅤ Living On Our Own—Recede is Barred.
MEANDERING DOWN THE CITY AS YOU’RE THE ONLY ONE POCKET LEFT

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