⠀ ❪ new ❫ post from rory .ᐟ 2026년 02월 02일 [◉°] ⠀ ⠀

As Niko pulled out onto the road, Rory finally leaned back, exhaling. 𝘖𝘯𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯. 𝘕𝘰𝘸, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦. @laisaintez ᭝

They made their way out, Rory carrying the two boxes and nudging the other one to Niko's hold. Moments later, she was settling into the passenger seat, the car filling with the faint scent of baked chocolate and sugar.

Niko laughed, unfazed. "Ganiyan ba talaga mag-welcome ang reyna ng Zamboanga City?" “Sinong may sabi na wine-welcome kita?” Rory retorted, snapping the lid on the last box. She picked them up carefully and nodded toward the door. “Tara na. Baka umiiyak na 'yung mag-ina.”

She greeted him with a roll of her eyes—her typical response to his teasing. "Dumating ka lang, nagbago na ihip ng hangin. Medyo mabaho 'nak," she replied, taking off her apron then lining the boxes neatly on her counter.

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. . .it was about time that her designated driver arrived.

Now, the fun part was packing the goods. She had the perfect boxes for it, the ones she had saved for special occasions. . . .ᨳଓ She was sealing the last box when she heard a familiar voice from outside. She glanced at the clock once again and realized that. . .

. . .ᨳଓ An hour later, the kitchen smelled like warm vanilla and chocolate—the usual smell in her home. Rory wiped her hands on her apron again, this time not out of ritual, but relief. The last batch of muffins had just come out of the oven, fluffy and perfect.

Once the batter was smooth and fragrant, she paused for a moment to taste a tiny spoonful, making sure it was the right mix. The oven hummed behind her as she transferred the batter into paper-lined muffin tins, her fingers dusted with flour.

. . .and a scattering of chocolate chips. She preheated the oven, the soft hum of it relaxing her nerves before she started with the batter. She worked quickly, measuring, mixing, and folding with practiced ease.

𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘪𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 2 𝘰'𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬? Once inside her unit, she set her bag down, kicked off her shoes, and tied her hair back. She grabbed her blue apron and started lining up the ingredients on the counter—flour, sugar, eggs. . .

ᨳଓ—After her frantic call with Muji, Rory hurriedly left her workplace, eager to get home and work on her niece's potluck muffins. There was no need to panic—it was just muffins. She did this everyday, but with a shorter deadline, her mind was in chaos.

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She quickly answered, pressing the phone to her ear. “Muji? Pauwi pa lang ako, mamaya na-” Rory started but was interrupted by a panicked voice on the other line. @fatalpages ᭝

. . .notifications. 3 𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙨: 𝙈𝙪𝙟𝙞 She never called three times in a row unless something was either burning down or she had good news for her cousin. Just as she was thinking what could be the reason is, her phone vibrated in her hand, flashing Muji's id.

Rory grinned and retreated to the employee cubbies near the back exit. Her shift was finally over... she could finally go home and sleep the rest of the day away. She pulled her phone from the pocket of her pants to check the time, but her screen glowed rather unusual. . .

“Heading out already?” he asked. “Yes, chef. Tomorrow's dough is already resting in the fridge. And... I didn't burn anything today, aren't you proud?” she replied lightly. He chuckled. “Good. You should get out of here before I find something else for you to do.”

. . .resting for tomorrow morning. She then scrubbed her bench until there were no more trace flour and sugar in sight—her little ritual that she follows every morning before ending her shift. She untied her apron just as the head chef passed by, working on another order.

It was a slow day for her—something she was quietly glad for. She wiped her palms on her apron as she surveyed the drawers one last time. The croissants were neatly stacked in their baskets, and the overnight brioche dough was tucked safely inside the refrigerator. . .