Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 43856 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 219(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43856 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 219(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
And at the very top, the butterfly—a breathtaking creation of spun sugar and edible gold.
Those wings shimmered.
Cosmo’s voice filled the space again. “Transformation is the heart of alchemy. The shedding of what was. The rebirth into something new. This dish is a tribute to that—to the cycles we move through, to the beauty of change.”
I swallowed hard, something about his words struck a chord deep within me.
Fabien picked up his fork. “Let’s see what transformation tastes like.”
I mirrored his movements, lifting my utensil. My fingers brushed his for the briefest moment.
Then—I took a bite.
Pleasure.
Pure, unadulterated pleasure.
I continued on trying everything with absolute enjoyment.
So many different flavors danced on my tongue—rich, decadent, surprising. The mousse melted into the crisp bread, the perfect savoriness of the lobster, the layers unfolding with depth, the sweetness of the sugar butterfly dissolving into something almost otherworldly.
When I took a bite of the chrysalis, I realized the interior was whipped brie and wildflower honey.
After that, time just swept by and the subway train glided forward, carrying us through a journey of flavors, mystery, and seduction.
With every course that arrived at a new station that we stopped at, I felt myself slipping deeper into the surreal magic of this night.
First came the Black Mirror, a dish so mesmerizing I barely wanted to touch it. A small, shimmering sphere sat atop a bed of crushed hazelnuts and saffron-infused foam.
Cosmo’s voice crackled over the speakers, explaining the dish.
One bite, and the delicate shell cracked, spilling molten chocolate infused with truffle and aged cognac onto my tongue.
“Damn.” I licked a drop from my lip. “That tastes like forbidden knowledge.”
Fabien smirked. “Then you must be the wisest woman on this train.”
Next was the Magnum Opus, a celebration of the four classical elements.
A slate platter held four precise bites—fire, water, air, and earth. Fire was a seared wagyu tartare with a hint of ghost pepper. Water shimmered with an oyster crowned with citrus pearls. Air floated in the form of a delicate, barely-there meringue, infused with lavender smoke.
And earth?
A tiny mushroom soufflé, rich and umami-laden, the essence of the forest captured in a single bite.
Fabien moaned at the taste of the wagyu, shaking his head in pleasure. “Every meal should have a moment like this.”
We sampled another dish called Celestial Harmony.
Cosmo explained that this dish was inspired by planetary alignment—a duo of lobster and black truffle pasta, plated in a spiral like the Milky Way.
Then came the Elixir of the Sun—a citrus and saffron sorbet, served in a crystal goblet emitting a fine mist of liquid nitrogen. The burst of cold, the sharp kiss of citrus, the undercurrent of warm saffron—it was a palate cleanser and a spell in itself.
Throughout the journey, Fabien and I laughed.
We talked.
We let the ride of the train lull us into a shared rhythm, our conversations flowing as seamlessly as the movement of the subway beneath us.
And I swore it felt like I’d known him forever.
How was that possible?
I had never been one of those hopeless romantics who believed in love at first sight.
Hell, even lust at first sight was something I tended to side-eye.
Connections took time.
Trust had to be earned.
But sitting across from Fabien, his green eyes glinting with intrigue, his deep voice twisting around me like the softest velvet, I couldn’t deny the way my soul seemed to recognize him.
It was ridiculous.
Impossible.
But what if it wasn’t?
What if soulmates weren’t just an overused trope in romance novels, but real, flesh-and-blood beings walking the earth, waiting to collide with you in the most unexpected of places?
Because wasn’t this what I had always imagined that feeling would be?
Not fireworks or grand declarations, but this—the easy pull, the magnetic draw of another person’s presence. The way every word, every glance, every shared breath felt inevitable.
The way I wasn’t just intrigued by him, but comfortable, like my spirit had simply slotted into place beside his.
God, I felt silly even entertaining the thought.
I didn’t know him.
Not really.
But my body, my heart, my soul?
They were all whispering something else.
And that terrified me.
Because what if I had actually met my soulmate?
I tried not to think of it all too much, and just enjoy the moment for now.
But, soon. . .the journey came to an end.
As the train slowed, I noticed the shift in our surroundings.
Gone were the marble and gold.
Instead, the final station was something out of a dream—a meadow stretching out before us, softly illuminated by hidden lights designed to mimic the glow of dawn.
Delicate sculptures of butterflies lined the space, as if frozen in mid-flight, poised for release.
Cosmo’s voice rang through the station one last time. “And with that, my dear alchemists, our journey together concludes. Transformation, indulgence, and magic—may you carry this night with you long after you leave these doors. Thank you for allowing us to take you beyond the ordinary.”