Aurora's POV. 68.
Suddenly, Luther walked in, tall, commanding, fresh from a call, his shirt a little unbuttoned and that cool shadow of danger resting on his face like always. I followed him straight into the dining room, too nervous to even breathe properly.
My hands were shaking slightly as I placed the plate down in front of him.
This was it.
My first damn attempt at making breakfast for him. My first time ever holding a pan in this godforsaken house. And despite the insults, the sabotage, the mockery—I did it.
Or so I thought.
Luther sat down, glancing at the food once, then at me. His brows lifted slightly.
"You cooked this?"
I nodded, trying not to fidget. "Like you said...”
A beat passed before he picked up the cutlery and took the first bite.
I waited.
His jaw stopped
