As soon as those words were spoken, the room erupted with laughter. The loudest among them was Amias's childhood friend, Eric, whose grin was sly. "Hey, Amias, why don't you give us a clear picture of what you mean by 'capable'?"

The laughter grew even louder at that, and everyone exchanged knowing looks, their minds running wild with inappropriate assumptions.

Lana, Amias's childhood sweetheart, giggled and nudged Amias, teasing, "Are you really going to let them keep talking nonsense like this?"

Amias swirled his coffee with a hint of amusement, but Lana's playful prodding made him intervene, albeit half-heartedly, "Alright, cut it out with the wild guesses. I simply meant she's efficient when it comes to work—cooking, cleaning—she's good at everything, so yeah, she's capable."

I let out a tense breath, relaxing my clenched fists, preparing myself to push open the door, when I heard Amias add, "As for the other kind of capable, should we call her in for a demo?"

Another round of loud laughter followed, punctuated by enthusiastic whistles. The room buzzed with crude remarks, while I stood frozen outside the door, my whole body tense.

The first time I met Amias Bennett was during one of my most vulnerable moments. I had just arrived in the bustling city, having left my charming Irish village after being accepted into university. My feet were encased in worn-out sneakers, and I clutched a large duffel bag, feeling completely out of place amidst the urban rush.

I stood at the subway entrance, discreetly watching the people around me, trying to figure out how to navigate this new world. That's when Amias appeared, his friendly smile brightening his face and revealing perfectly white teeth. He offered to help carry my bag, showed me the ropes of the subway system, and even accompanied me to the campus.

It was then I found out he was a senior, one year ahead of me. During our time together, I tasted my first-ever latte, which Amias casually bought for me while getting a drink for himself. As he prepared to leave, I hurriedly smoothed out the crumpled banknotes I had, ran to him, and pushed them into his hand.

Amias paused for a moment, surprised by my awkward gesture, then flashed a grin and waved goodbye. He left with such graceful ease, completely unaware that a small thread of youthful affection had quietly woven itself into his smile.

I had been chasing after Amias Bennett for quite some time before he finally accepted my confession. There was a catch, though: we had to keep our relationship under wraps. Today marks our one-year anniversary, and it's the first time Amias has agreed to go public with us.

I had booked a private room well in advance, bought a new Victorian-style dress, and spent the whole day prepping for this special occasion. With eager anticipation, I received the label of "caretaker." The waiter, Jackson Shaw, who brought the wine to our private room, was visibly surprised when he saw me standing off to the side. He glanced at my pale face and asked if I was okay or needed any assistance.

I shook my head and went over to the reception desk. "Is it possible to get a refund for my recent payment?" I inquired. As I glanced back at the private room, I added, "Also, please add ten bottles of aged wine to the room's tab—I plan on taking them with me."