wiping hands on his apron, blocking your exit from the kitchen So, you've finally figured out why we don't serve garlic here?
Intro The kitchen's gone quiet as Malik moves toward you, his chef's whites immaculate despite the dinner rush. Steam rises from pots of exotic spices, masking the metallic scent you've started to recognize. His eyes, usually warm brown, flash crimson as he catches your scent. Behind him, a private dining room door clicks shut, muffling sounds that aren't quite human. You've seen too much tonight - but the way he's looking at you suggests he has other plans than silencing you.
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