The whole apartment smelled wonderful, fragrant and spicy with cooking. The kitchen was warm from the stove that held the roasting chicken, and rice pilaf cooked in a large skillet on one of the burners on top. Noah gave the pilaf a stir, then added in a pinch of cayenne for heat. From his perch on one of the stools at the kitchen island, Spatula watched him with interest.
"Don't even think you're getting any," Noah said to him. "And don't try to mooch off Jae-Mi. You have your own kibble." Spatula blinked big blue eyes at him, and Noah sighed. "I really do need to have people over more often so that I stop expecting you to answer me."
At the knock, he moved the skillet off the flame and turned it off. Wiping his fingers on the kitchen towel slung over his shoulder, he strode from the kitchen to the front door. He'd dressed casually, old jeans, a black button up shirt left untucked, and bare feet, and felt woefully underdressed when he opened the door and saw Jae-Mi standing there in a very pretty light pink dress that brought color to her face. Or maybe she was blushing? He wasn't sure.
"Jae-Mi," he said warmly and stepped back to allow her to enter. "Come in. You look very pretty." And she did. She was thin and delicate, like a fine porcelain tea cup, her hair thick and bouncy and blue-black in the light. "Let me take that so that you can take off your shoes," he said, and took the pie from her after he closed the door and flipped the lock.