Into the kitchen

Not allowing yourself to give up, you decide to start searching the kitchen for clues. Perhaps you can find something here that could lead you to an exit. You begin desperately opening drawers one by one, trying to find anything useful. Strangely, the kitchen seemed completely normal. The fridges were stocked, there were clean dishes stacked neatly, ready to use. Your stomach growls. God, you could really use something to eat right now. You aren't sure when the last time you'd had a full meal was, but you'd be damned if some of these pristine ingredients weren't just begging to be turned into a lovely dish. A part of your brain is begging for you to stop searching for a while. To stay in the kitchen and cook a lovely meal. You love cooking. Cooking feels good. You love the kitchen. The kitchen is your home. You weren't quite sure what these thoughts meant, but they were starting to make more and more sense. You still haven't found a trace of your captor. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to take a little break?