~When he cooked, he cooked with basil~

Some yummy smell drifted through their house. She remembered the smell, but the name had slipped off her tongue. "It's a spice… it's an herb… but what is its name?" she pondered. "Oregano? No. Parsley? No." She continued to walk through the house, the smell getting stronger once she had reached the kitchen. The smell was so loud that it felt like running into a tree. "Basil!" she blurted, causing the green-haired man to chuckle. "I see you're using your favourite spice."

"Indeed." He nodded. "I'm making this." He pointed to a cookbook. It read 'fettuccine with pesto alla Genovese.' It looked delicious, whatever it was. "Looks good, doesn't it?" he asked.

"Oh yes!" she replied with gusto.

The sat down at the table, eating happily. "Cilan, I love this. It's amazing."

"Thank you." He smiled.

"No problem."

The two ate in silence. Their silence was compelling; it meant that they were really enjoying this.

They finished with a satisfied sigh.

A/N: Two thumbs up for slice-of-life! :D