Voren froze in place for a second, his eyes dropping down to the steaming bowl of soup in his hands before slowly lifting to meet his father's gaze.
He couldn't remember a single time Vladimir had ever cooked anything, not even once.
The rich, mouthwatering aroma rising from the bowl was enough to make anyone's stomach rumble with hunger, but the sheer surprise of where it had come from left him standing there completely speechless for a moment.
Vladimir noticed the hesitation written all over his son's face and let out a quiet, understanding chuckle. "It's alright if you don't trust me right now," he said, his voice carrying no anger at all, just patient warmth.
"But you have to remember something important." His expression softened with genuine emotion. "Everything I'm doing now is my responsibility as your father, and soon, as a grandfather to my grandchild."
