I thought about it. Maybe one of those restaurants would actually let me cook. [ she muses out loud, tucking some curly hair behind her ear. isabella pours the pots ingredients into the pie crust and puts the top of the pie crust on top of her concoction before stuffing it into the oven, shutting the door. the girl pulls sophie close, leaning back against the counter top as her arms rest loosely around the other girl's waist. she bops her nose against sophie's. ]

I don't know. I could just crash here and earn my keep making you meals all day. Your own personal chef.