#9 Cooking with Billy and Ser

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A/N: This is kind of a weird sort of chapter, I don't know if it's lazy or not with what I did with the Queen song, when I was writing it and integrating the music, I imagined it as sort of a musical/music video type of deal that would probably make a lot more sense as a movie scene. 

The days go by slowly. I've put Billy in the guest room upstairs, and I'm in my bedroom. I've stocked up on food and clothing and toiletries and everything a house needs. He's recovering quite well, and some days are better than others. I can tell he has nightmares, I'll hear him yelling in the middle of the night and rush in to try and make sure he doesn't hurt himself accidentally. He always looks so embarrassed when I show up. He'll usually mutter 'I'm fine' and then go back to sleep.

I've been having nightmares too, more than usual, about Billy and about the shadow monster. Last night was a normal dream though, a better memory. Billy did get banged up, but hey, he won a huge fight against Pete and his goons.

When I get out of bed the first thing I do is go check on Billy. I notice he's not in his room, I look around and can't find him anywhere. I look in the bathroom, and all around the bedroom but he's nowhere to be found. I start to panic and blink down the stairs. I look in the living room, and finally I find him in the kitchen, cooking.

"Billy!" I exclaim.

"Ah!" He's holding a sizzling pan, and he jumps when I say his name, flipping an egg up so high it almost hits the roof. I blink and take the pan from him, then catch the egg and hand the pan back.

"Thanks." He looks at the egg somberly. "But I think it's burnt anyways."

"What are you doing?" I ask him with a giggle.

"Well I was trying to make us breakfast." He sighs and puts the pan down. "My dad always said cooking is gay, and it's for women. He caught my mom teaching me one time and he slapped her, and she never let me help her cook again. When my dad was in between wives I learned to cook a little bit, but then when my stepmother came into the picture I stopped. It's been a while."

"Let me help. It's easy, I'll show you." I say.

I show him how to crack the egg and remove the shells, and how to season it, and what temperature to put the stove on. Together, we cook a some eggs and bacon.

I look at him intently when I notice he's got the hang of it, and doesn't need me to be as alert. A little bit of his tongue pokes out the side of his mouth, as he does in concentration. His blue eyes are focused. I look up and down his muscular body, my heart jumps and I avert my eyes.

No. You cannot have a crush on him. You can't.

I look at him again.

Technically we never broke up.

But he did say he moved on. Or, tried to.

We're over. He was a thing of the past.

But I can't get him out of my head.

I'm finishing up the bacon while he makes toast, and I'm not watching him because anyone can use a toaster right?

Wrong.

He flings a piece of toast across the room because he tries to pick it up too fast.

"It just cooked! What temperature did you think it would be?" I ask him sarcastically.

"I didn't think it would be that hot!" He defends himself.

Finally, we scrap together an acceptable breakfast without burning the house down.

"I thought my house was a goner a couple of times there. Thought I'd have to call the fire department." I say as he makes two plates and we sit down to eat.

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