Five More Minutes | 18+ [HIATUS]

breakfast

Hades' POV:

two weeks later

"Someone's finally awake," I tease with a lopsided grin. I flip the omelet over and slide it down onto a white plate, next to two pieces of strawberry jam toast.

With a dramatic roll of her eyes, she sits herself down on a stool across the table island, directly in front of me. I slide over her plate and place mine in front of me.

"You can cook?" She questions jokingly.

"Everytime I cook us breakfast, you act like it's something new— your first meal here was literally made with my hands, ma'am," I answer with a hint of sarcasm. She asks such weird questions.

"I still don't get why you don't hire a chef," she says with a mouthful of toast.

It's been two weeks since we've first kissed— and two weeks we've gone out. The mafia's been busy, and I can't be throwing my priorities aside here and there just because of Athena. In Vander's words, I'm trying not to let it affect "work."

"Like I said, I have legs and arms, Athena. I can do shit on my own," I remind her. She chuckles and takes another bite of her food.

"Where are the boys? Vander said he'd cook breakfast for me," she says with a small pout.

A pang of jealousy runs through my body, but I force it off because I know Vander would never do anything to wreck our— relationship. But nonetheless, I can't help but feel a thread of anger at her words.

She's mine. I make her breakfast.

"Whatever it is you're thinking, throw it out the window, Hades. Your face makes me wanna laugh," she snorts. She grabs her glass of orange juice and takes a sip. "Vander would never try something that stupid— you'd beat the shit out of him."

True.

"I make you breakfast," I declare as if it's something in need of defending.

A sigh escapes her lips in pretentious defeat. "Fine, from now only you can make me breakfast," she says.

I take another bite of my toast and stretch my hand out towards her, my pinky finger protruding from my fist.

She looks at my finger, then back at me, then at my finger, then back at me again. She intertwines her pinky with mine, her lips resisting the urge to burst out laughing.

"What's so funny?" I narrow my eyes at her.

She finally lets herself fall into peals of laughter, her shoulders hovering over her plate. Once she wipes the tears from her eyes and straightens her back, she looks up at me and says, "Oh, I'm not so sure. Maybe the fact that the deadliest man I know just forced me to pinky promise his breakfast making privileges."

I clear my throat when my face heats up, but I look down and force myself to hide my face as I finish the rest of my meal.

"I sent the boys out to do an overall of the bases," I say, my back turned to her as I wash my plate. "I wanted to make sure none of the recruits would try to pull something stupid."

I hear her chuckle, and now she's beside me, waiting for her turn at the sink. "You should worry more about your guards," she comments. I grab a towel off the rack and wipe my hands.