<div style="text-align: right"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"><span style="font-size: 26px">aven miller</span></span><br/>
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</div><br/><br/><span style="font-family: 'Didact Gothic', 'sans-serif'">Aven wasn't accustomed to waking up as late as she had this morning. That and the events that would take place today were a feat that she was not looking forward to. Aven liked routine. She liked the familiarity and pattern of her everyday tasks. Despite it, the nervousness that wracked her body was not something she had expected.<br/>
<br/>
Aven could not pinpoint the exact reason why she was so nervous had someone asked, but something in her stomach coiled with nerves, urging her to not leave the comfort of her soft, pillowy bed. Her job was on the line, yes. But her manager had made sure that in case the new management and Head Chef decided they did not want her, she would have another job as a sous chef waiting for her. The only problem was that that job did not hold the same comforts the one she'd worked for in the past five years held. That one had longer hours, was farther from the city, and didn’t have the fresh markets she would visit every Tuesday and Friday. She would have to build up her reputation from scratch, and Aven wouldn't be offered the freedom to try out the many different recipes she customized the way she was able to in Petit Valentian, a french restaurant with fusion twists. A defeated sigh dragged out of her lips when the sound of the alarm shrilled against her ear once again. Despite the gut feeling gnawing at her stomach, Aven rose from the bed, a strong hand around her waist stopping her motion.<br/>
<br/>
Aven turned to Sebastian. It had felt like days since she had last seen him. He was a bartender at a club all the way across the city, and his days started just as the sun would set and end when the sun would rise. He’d been working there for the past year and a half, saving up to buy a bar of his own. Aven let her dark eyes peruse over his features momentarily. He was good-looking in that boyish manner some men carried. When he was awake, his light eyes always carried a certain mischievous glint in them, his lips pulled into an easy, dimpled white smile. It was that smile of his that had convinced Aven to move all the way from the bustling New York City to the calmer, yet now comforting Seattle. New York City had been her home. She'd grown up there, worked hard to find her place in that rampant beautiful, harsh city. Aven had discovered her passion for cooking and worked her ass off to prove her worth as a great culinary student before becoming one of the youngest Sous Chef the restaurants had seen. Her mentors had urged her to start her own restaurant, but Aven didn't want the glory or the responsibility of owning one. She was more than happy to create her own projects on the side and serve them to guests who came from all over the world.<br/>
<br/>
Which is why she was convinced that moving to Seattle with Sebastian would be her greatest regret.<br/>
<br/>
Aven didn't regret her decision the way she thought she would though. As beautiful as New York was, New York had the habit of chewing people up and spitting them out till they were nothing but a shell of their former selves. There was nothing left for her in New York City except for burned bridges and bad memories. Gently, Aven ran her fingers against his blonde hair, pushing wisps of it off his tan skin. She kissed his forehead softly, a gentle smile pulling her lips at his groan. Slipping off the bed, Aven’s bare feet padded against the white, fur rug, arms stretching out above her head. Easing her way to the bathroom, Aven worked on threading her hair out of its waves, brushing her teeth, rinsing her face, and fixing on the barest of makeup.<br/>
<br/>
By the time she was out, dressed in straight-leg jeans, an oversized white button-up and light jewelry, Sebastian had gotten up and tidied the bed. The smell of coffee wafted the spacious apartment along with the sounds of clattering dishes. Making her way outside, she was suddenly met with a pair of strong arms pulling her back, a pair of lips pressed against her creamy neck. Aven hummed and leaned back against Sebastian's chest. "Good morning, beautiful," his voice was raspy against her neck, and Aven turned to him. <br/>
<br/>
"Morning," she grinned, a hand slipping up to his jawline. She kissed him softly, easily falling into the safety of his arms. They hadn't had a proper conversation in a while. They would talk in between breaks on the phone, wish each other good morning and good night, but their schedules didn't give them the time Aven would have preferred. She missed her fiancé, but she knew that this was just a temporary arrangement. He was close to buying up a bar. Sebastian had even gotten in contact with someone about a building nearby that was open for lease. <br/>
<br/>
"I made you some coffee and breakfast. It won't be as good as your omelets of course, but I thought it'd be a nice break," there was that crooked smile again - the one that could have the most stubborn person melt like butter. <br/>
<br/>
"Thank you," Aven murmured, kissing him one more time before taking a seat. <br/>
<br/>
"You'll be fine, alright. They'd be stupid to let you go, but even if they do, we'll figure something out. Plus, the restaurant your boss would send you to is close to the bar. We’d be able to see each other more,” <i>Temporarily</i>, Aven wanted to add. If she were to be let go, then once Sebastian managed to secure a deal on the place, Aven would be across the city working, and Sebastian would be right in the middle, thriving and free of the boundaries his job stifled him to. Resentment snaked it’s way through Aven’s body. She hated Alejandro for wanting to give away his restaurant. Aven couldn’t even search up who the new owner would be because of some contract that kept Alejandro that bounded  him from giving away the person’s identity. All Alejandro could tell the team was that he was an up and coming chef who had become a major success in New York City. <br/>
<br/>
It reminded her of a man she knew once so long ago. <br/>
<br/>
“I’m not worried. Whatever happens, happens. I know we’ll work something out,” glancing up at the time, Aven stood up. “You should go to bed, babe. I know you have a long night ahead of you,” Tuesday nights were the worst at the bar, and the exhaustion from working himself tirelessly was clear on Sebastian’s face. He never complained though. Sebastian was not the type to. Bringing her close to him, Sebastian’s lips dropped onto Aven’s once again, his kiss soft and coaxing. A shudder coarsed through her body, and she pressed herself an inch closer to him. It had been a while since they’d spent the night together. Saturday was the off day that both of them were off at the same time though, and Aven was giddy to go on a proper date with him. <br/>
<br/>
“Text me when you find out what happens, okay? I love you,”<br/>
<br/>
“Love you too, Seb,”<br/>
<br/>
Aven waved Sebastian goodbye, and quickly slipped into her car. Traffic wasn’t terrible considering she lived a mere five minutes from the restaurant. Parking her car, a pang of pain coursed through her body. The sign that used to greet the customers, large, red, and bold had been stripped off of the top, leaving an ugly lamination of what it used to be. The windows were blocked out too - dark and leaving no room to peek through from the outside. Louis would put her decorated cakes by those windows. It was a pity how quickly they’d torn down the entire place. Entering the kitchen, Aven quickly greeted all the familiar faces, nodding at new ones as she donned on her white chef’s coat. Her hair was pulled back in a neat bun, lips swiped with peach gloss, golden eyes accentuated with minimal mascara. Alenjandro was already there, guiding the newcomers to different parts of the kitchen before turning to his staff. “Alright, is everyone here?” He quickly looked at every face before smiling. While no one was excited for the sudden change and the probability of being laid off, Alejandro was more than ready to leave the industry. He’d worked for far too long, and had the opportunity to retire comfortably. While Aven respected the decision, she definitely did not have to like it. <br/>
<br/>
“I want you all to meet the new head chef and owner of this fine establishment, Mr. Rafael Silva,” Aven felt her heart drop at the name. It couldn’t be.....<br/>
<br/>
Reluctantly, her golden gaze turned to where Alejandro was looking, staring right into the bright blue eyes of the man she’d desired to escape in New York. </span>