"I Promise"

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The sound of rain woke me from my slumber.

I opened my eyes and saw how dark my room was. It was unusual. I was so used to the sun shining behind the sheer curtains; nearly screaming at me to wake up.

A knock on my door jolted me out of my deep thoughts.

"Yeah," I answered, bringing my sheets up to my chest.

Cassia poked her head into the room and smiled once she saw me. I couldn't help but smile back. "Good morning," she said in a cheerful tone.

"Good morning," I replied, returning her smile.

"I think we're having a chill day today because of the rain, but my brother wants to talk to you."

Confusion set over me. "About what?" I asked.

She shrugged.

"I think you should just speak to him," she said before backing out of the doorway and closing the door.

I got out of bed and grabbed one of my robes from the bathroom.

I remembered my conversation with Rowan before he left the house. I felt more content now that I felt like he was opening up to me.

I gave myself a once over in the mirror before walking out of my room to go to the kitchen. I don't know why, but I had the hunch that that was where he'd be.

You sure it's not because he said last night that he'd cook you breakfast?

I rolled my eyes at my conscious.

The house was surprisingly empty. I wonder where Cassia had run off to so quickly.

There was no butler around either.

I walked downstairs and into the kitchen to see Rowan with his back turned.

He had on a pair of grey pajama pants and a black wife beater.

He was cooking.

I walked around the counter to face him.

He looked up, startlement on his face.

"Good morning," he said with the cutest smile I had ever seen.

I laughed softly. "Good morning to you."

"I hope you have an appetite," he said while shoveling an omelet onto a plate.

He handed me the plate which already had some sort of bread on it. I scrunched my nose at it and looked at Rowan.

"It's tara paine," he said, taking a bite of my bread. "You can't knock it until you've tried it."

The bread looked dry and old. I was really debating how suicidal I would have to be to attempt to swallow it.

"See you on the other side," I said before picking up the bread and taking a bite.

Hold up.

I nearly moaned at how soft the bread was. There was a little yeast taste, but butter controlled the entire thing. "This is so good," I said with a mouth full of bread.

Rowan chuckled and shook his head before grabbing both of our plates and setting them on the island behind the stove.

"Sit," he said, pointing to a barstool.

I plopped down on the stool and picked up the fork that was beside my plate. "What's this?" I asked Rowan, pointing to the omelet.

"It's an omelet," he answered releasing a laugh.

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