ORION.
Days have passed since our wonderful romantic vacation and my birthday, that's right! I turned thirty one a couple of days ago. Harro made my birthday truly special and now life has slowly settled back into its familiar, comforting routine. I have also gone back to work while Harro continued his hybrid work-life routine—sometimes in our bedroom, the sitting room and mostly in the study.
I gotta admit, I missed being at work and surrounded by my employees. I know right? That's not something I thought I'd ever say, but seeing their smiling faces and catching up with them after being away for two weeks felt like a breath of fresh air. And you know what's more exciting? The new drug we've been working on? It's almost ready for the market! Thanks to the merger, funding worries are a thing of the past. My father has also been playing nice—such a relief, I can't even put it into words.
Now, about Athena and Azalea—they kept their promise and came back to Alderan a day before my birthday. Their arrival was dramatic as usual—a bunch of gifts, bright smiles, warm hugs, and that familiar, joyful energy. We were hanging out one evening when Azalea asked if we weren't going to have a house warming party, and it became her girlfriend's instant obsession.
"You guys definitely need a housewarming party!" Athena insisted with sparkle in her eyes. Although I made it very clear that there was no need for a house warming party because we hadn't just moved into a new house; she wouldn't take no for an answer, so we made a little compromise: Harro and I decided that instead of a house warming party, we would host a small get-together, celebrating me moving in with him.
And so, Harro, suggested we invite Marcus. "Let's use this as an opportunity to have dinner together, and show appreciation for the wonderful work he's done on our home," he said. I couldn't argue with that though—what's the worst thing that could happen by inviting my brother to dinner? So, I happily said yes.
Harro and Athena had been busy planning the menu for days, their excitement was beginning to scare me a little. Finally, they agreed on Harro doing the main cooking—he's a god when he's in the kitchen, so I knew he'd create something amazing. He decided to prepare a five-course meal despite my protest that it might be too much work for him to handle.
Athena said she was going to take charge of the desserts and drinks. I don't get why we needed more drinks especially because our wine cellar is overflowing with bottles of rich reds, sparkling whites, and everything in between, but Harro said those were not for drinking. Honestly, wine lovers can be a little over dramatic about their collections.
Our kitchen is currently filled with lively chaos—pots steaming, knives chopping, and the aroma of herbs and spices filling the air. I was glad I called Gemma for backup; I still can't handle the long hours or the seriousness involved in making proper meals. It's true what they say—cooking is a labor of love, but sometimes, it's also a labor of patience. Spending so many hours in the kitchen just to eat in minutes doesn't appeal to me—but, I guess that's part of the magic.
After breakfast, Harro started prepping the ingredients. The sound of chopping, sizzling, and bubbling was constant. Gemma arrived early with her usual radiant smile and a contagious high-spirited energy. Her cheeks were flushed from excitement, and she carried herself like she belonged right there in the bustling kitchen. She's a natural in her element—probably from working in Harro's restaurants—so she dove right into helping with enthusiasm. Harro was determined to have dinner ready on time, so he spared no effort—he moved swiftly, confidently, every step precise and focused.
While they cooked, I was busy running errands—picking up last-minute ingredients, grabbing some fresh herbs, and making sure everything was perfect.
I was just about to head into the kitchen, carrying a few bottles of wine Harro had asked me to fetch, when suddenly, the doorbell rang out. It was loud echoing throughout the big house. Before I could even set the bottles down, Gemma chirped brightly, "I'll get it!" and skipped happily out of the kitchen, her footsteps light and full of anticipation. I wondered—could the girls be here already?
I reminded Harro, "That could be the girls! Tina did say they'd be arriving early because of the dessert," and he glanced at me with a smile before returning his attention to the steaming pot bubbling on the stove.
I couldn't help but smile as my eyes settled on his back, he looked so serious! I walked over, wrapping my arms around him from behind, and kissed him softly on the neck. He squealed a little—his cheeks flushing from the sudden affection. He's so sexy when he's in chef mode—focused, passionate, a little sweaty from all the activity. It made him utterly irresistible.
"Babe," Harro whined playfully, "I'm all sweaty, don't do that!" I laughed and pressed another quick kiss to his neck.
"You know I'd kiss you even if you were covered in mud, babe," I replied with a wink, and his face turned a shade pinker. I couldn't help but laugh at how adorable he looks—so handsome, yet so genuinely cute. I don't know how it's even possible but he's more charming as the days go by.
Just then, Gemma called out from the doorway with a mischievous grin. "Hey, boss," she said, even though I'd told her not to call me that anymore, but she loved teasing me. "This sexy dude says he's the brother you're expecting for dinner." Her voice was playful as she led Marcus into the kitchen with a bright smile, her eyes twinkling with mischief. Marcus blushed so hard I could see it from across the kitchen, his cheeks turning a deep pink. Harro just shook his head, laughing softly.
"Yes, he's my brother, Gemma." I said, trying to keep a straight face, "And stop flirting with him." But in instead of listening to my words she winked at Marcus again and went right back to preparing the salad.
Harro greeted Marcus politely, his smile warm and welcoming, as Marcus stepped fully into the kitchen. He dropped a gift bag on the counter.
"I brought gifts," Marcus announced cheerfully. He reached inside and pulled out a bottle of wine—Harro's eyes lit up instantly.
"That's my favorite," Harro exclaimed, almost in disbelief as he looked at the bottle.
Marcus looked a little shy but happy. "I asked Athena what kind of wine you'd like. I hope you don't mind?" His voice was gentle, almost nervous.
"Oh, Marcus, that's so thoughtful, thank you!" Harro said, genuinely touched. Marcus blushed again—he's genuinely such a sweet and humble guy. I was honestly surprised by how thoughtful and kind he is—each time we meet I discover new sides to him. I'm glad he's nothing like our father.
Then Marcus turned to me, smiling softly. "This is for you," he said holding out another bottle. "I know you don't drink alcohol, so I got you something non-alcoholic. Hope that's okay?" His eyes looked into me, hopeful like he was worried I might refuse his gift.
"It's perfect, thank you, Marcus." I said sincerely. I really appreciated the thoughtfulness, and his smile grew even wider at my words. I could see he was relieved when he let out the breath he'd been holding in.
Harro turned to my brother, his voice full of warmth. "You should relax in the sitting room, Marcus. We still have a few things to finish up here, we'll join you soon."
"I'd love to stay and help, if you don't mind." Marcus said gently, looking around at the lively chaos of the kitchen. "Honestly, this looks way more fun than sitting alone out there," he added cheerfully.
I glanced at Harro and gave him a slight nod. His eyes met mine, and he agreed, "Alright then, Marcus—you're officially part of this chaotic mess. I'm sure there's something you can do here." Marcus's face lit up with a big smile, and just as he was about to settle in, Gemma appeared again, grabbing his hand.
"You're with me, pretty boy," she said, her voice playful, making him blush again. He looked at me with a shy, hopeful expression, and I shrugged indicating he was on his own and Harro just chuckled.
"Gemma, don't tease Marcus too much," Harro warned playfully and I could hear her laughing as she led him away. Gemma's a born flirt, she can't help it.