Chapter 57: Let’s Recreate A Memory From The Past
Hearing that he was finally willing to make his move, Charlotte and Yelena both leaned in, eyes wide and glittering with anticipation, watching Mika closely, as if waiting for a magician to pull his next impossible trick.
Especially Yelena, she was more curious than anyone else. Because, even though she never ever said it out loud, it was always Mika who had cheered her up the most, without fail.
No matter what it was, no matter how silly the moment or how heavy her mood, he somehow always knew exactly what she needed.
Just like Charlotte had said.
There were days when a storm brewed in her heart, and no one could calm her—no one except him.
Like one time, he pulled his socks over his hands and put on a sock puppet show so deranged it felt like a fever dream. No plot, voices changing mid-sentence, and one puppet was literally him shrieking into a slipper.
But she still snapped out of her bad mood and laughed so hard she nearly fell off the couch, gasping for air between hiccups.
Another time, he decided to cook, right in front of her, with the clear intent to butcher a perfectly good recipe. He called it baking, but what followed was a deliberate crime scene: salt instead of sugar, a generous squirt of ketchup, mustard for mystery, and finally, a handful of crushed potato chips for crunch.
He knew exactly what he was doing. Knew she couldn’t handle it, especially her, who treated cooking like it was holy. And just like he’d planned, it worked perfectly.
Her eye twitched, arms folded, trying so hard to stay silent. But the moment he reached for a jar of pickles and muttered, "This might make a good frosting," she snapped.
In the very next second, she was by his side, yanking ingredients away, scolding him about kitchen blasphemy while instinctively fixing his mess,completely forgetting why she was mad in the first place.
And then there was the karaoke incident.