MIGHT AS WELL BE OP - Chapter 672

Chapter 672: Usurp

Within a simple yet mildly decorated spacious room, two people could be seen sleeping peacefully on a king-sized bed, their bodies curled close to one another, cuddling as though the world outside had ceased to exist.

Their chests rose and fell with gentle ease, their synchronized breathing resembling the calm rhythm of nature itself. In the stillness, they looked almost ethereal, as though their very existence complemented one another perfectly, two charms intertwined in seamless harmony.

Through the half-drawn curtains, the rays of the morning sun attempted to pierce the serenity of the room. The light struggled to slip past the fabric that held it at bay, its golden hues spilling faintly across the polished floor, shimmering in the quiet air.

Slowly, Anthony’s eyelids fluttered open, revealing eyes of a clear and striking blue, as though the morning sky itself had been mirrored within them. His gaze shifted softly to Vega, who lay nestled against his arm, her breath steady, her face serene in sleep.

A tender smile curved upon Anthony’s lips. Lowering his head, he pressed a delicate kiss upon her forehead, the gesture both reverent and affectionate. Moving with practiced care, he eased himself from the bed, taking caution not to disturb her sleep.

Standing tall, Anthony stretched his limbs, savoring the relief and subtle joy that came with it. His movements were unhurried, deliberate, his expression softened by the tranquil beauty before him.

His eyes once again fell upon Vega, still wrapped in the comfort of the sheets, her features softened in innocent repose.

A few days had passed since the events of the boys’ night out and the girls’ night out. Despite the curiosity that might have naturally followed, neither Anthony nor Vega had pressed the other for details. No questions had been asked, no explanations sought. They had returned, and that had been enough.

Suppressing a yawn, Anthony walked towards the bathroom. Within minutes, the sound of running water ceased, and he emerged refreshed, droplets of moisture lingering faintly on his skin.

He dressed swiftly, his movements efficient, before making his way towards the kitchen. There, hanging neatly upon the pegboard, rested a simple apron. Taking it into his hands, he tied it around himself and, without hesitation, set to work.

Time rolled forward quietly, marked only by the faint sounds of utensils, the gentle clink of porcelain, and the soft hiss of heated pans. Anthony was preparing something modest, light, but satisfying. Toasted bread, eggs, and tea. Nothing extravagant, but his care and intent turned simplicity into art.

Back in the bedroom, Vega stirred, her consciousness tugged gently from dreams by the alluring aroma drifting through the air. Her lashes quivered, her body shifting lazily against the sheets.

A drowsy murmur escaped her lips.

“What smells so good this early morning?” she mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper as she tossed lightly on the king-sized bed.

“Breakfast does,” Anthony’s voice called warmly from the kitchen. Moments later, he emerged, balancing a tray in his hand with effortless grace, the food arranged neatly upon it.

Vega sat up, her lips curving into a playful smile as she watched him. “You do know you are spoiling me too much… Normally women are the ones meant to cook, you know. But you’ve usurped my role in this relationship.”

With a stretch, she rose from the bed, mana shimmering faintly around her body. In an instant, she was cleansed of the remnants of sleep, and with but a thought, her attire shifted seamlessly as she moved towards the dining table.

“Meh… Don’t overthink it. I’ll leave the pregnancy part for you,” Anthony replied lightly, humor glinting in his eyes as he set the food upon the table.

“You only say that because men can’t get pregnant,” Vega retorted slyly, taking her seat.

Anthony slipped the apron from his waist. Space itself bent subtly at his command, folding in obedience to his will, and the apron vanished, reappearing precisely upon the pegboard from which it had been taken.

At Vega’s words, however, he only smiled faintly, refusing to give voice to the absurdity of imagining a man pregnant. The very notion felt ridiculous to him, though he mused inwardly, ‘But since the universe is vast and limitless, where everything and anything might be possible, I wouldn’t put it beyond reality.’

Vega reached for her toast and egg, taking a bite. A soft sigh escaped her lips as the crunchy texture melted delightfully against her tongue. “How do you make even a simple meal like bread with eggs taste so heavenly?” she asked in genuine wonder.

“You should be used to this by now,” Anthony replied calmly, mirroring her actions as he bit into his food.

“I know,” Vega admitted, sipping from her tea, “but if I become too accustomed, how could I ever enjoy meals cooked by others? It would be as though no one else could measure up, even when they are doing an excellent job.” Her tone was thoughtful, almost philosophical.

“Then don’t eat anyone else’s cooking,” Anthony smirked. “It’s not like you can’t go months without food if you wish. I’ll cook for you anytime, with no complaints.”

Shaking her head, Vega laughed softly. That hadn’t been the point she intended, but she let it pass without pressing further. A moment later, she brightened, her eyes glinting. “Come to think of it, I’ve never had a mana-infused dish made by you.”

Anthony paused, struck by the realization. Since the day he had learned the ways of a chef, he had never once crafted a mana-infused dish. The thought lingered, teasing him with possibility.

“What would you like me to make?” he asked finally, curiosity and anticipation lacing his tone. “I would give you the honor of tasting my first mana-infused cuisine, something even I have yet to experience.” His smile carried both pride and eagerness.

“Maybe another time,” Vega answered with a playful grin. “For now, let’s just enjoy this, or else you might end up changing professions from soldier to logistics officer in the kitchen department.”

Anthony chuckled. “Who says I can’t do both?”

Vega didn’t reply with words; instead, she smiled softly, returning her attention to the meal. The silence that followed was not awkward but comfortable, a warm quiet that spoke of companionship rather than distance.

When the last bites were taken, Vega rose gracefully, gathering the dishes before heading towards the sink.

“You know you could use magic for that, right?” Anthony commented, leaning lazily against the doorway, his arms crossed as he observed her.

“Indeed, I could,” Vega answered with a serene smile, dipping her hands into the cool water. “But there’s a soothing comfort in mundane tasks. When done without obligation, they remind us of simplicity, of humanity itself.”

Anthony’s smile deepened. He said nothing more, for he understood. Just as he could have summoned food directly from the system, yet chose instead to cook with his own hands, Vega sought meaning in action itself rather than convenience.

“Any plans for today?” he asked.