Earphones

Chapter 8: My cook

I hear the ring so I turn off the TV and stand up from the couch to respond to it.

"Yes?" I say, pretending not to know who it is.

"Hi, your personal chef has arrived." I overhear El's exited voice through the intercom.

I chuckle at her answer. "I'm on the fifth floor, number 9."

A few minutes later, I hear knocks on my door. I go to open it and was met by a radiant Lizzie.

"Hi. Come on in." I gesture to her to do so and then close the door after her.

She hugs me tightly. "Hi again." She greets me ending the short embrace.

"You can put your things over there." I show her the coat rack.

"Thank you. So where's your kitchen? So I can make you something to eat that is not pasta."

I chuckle at her comment as I head to the kitchen. "Here's the kitchen. Make yourself at home."

"You have a really nice apartment." She compliments with a beautiful smile.

"Thank you."

"So what do you have to eat here?" She goes over the fridge and opens it.

"Not much, I have to go grocery shopping soon. I hope you find something to cook otherwise you've come here for nothing." I sit on a high stool near the counter.

"I'm going to find something and besides I wouldn't have come here for nothing since it's the last time I'll see you before I leave." She says sincerely, and that alone makes my heart skip a beat.

I watch her as she navigates around my kitchen making me dinner. Gosh, she's beautiful. Her hair, her eyes, her mouth, her smile, her laugh, everything. Okay. I'm definitely falling for her.

She lifts her head catching me staring. "What?" She asks me with a questioning look letting out a laugh.

"Nothing." I pretend. "Do you need help?" I offer so that she forgets that I was staring at her.

"No, I'm good. Thank you." She declines.

"Alright. I'm going to set the table. You want to eat?"

"I'm not very hungry since I've already eaten but you can still set a plate for me."

"Okay." I put the plates and everything on the kitchen island. When it's set, I go behind her to watch her cook peering over her shoulder. "So watcha making?"

"Zucchini fritters."

"That's sound delicious." I say with a sigh of pleasure. I gently take her hair in my hand and start braiding it.

"What are you doing?" She asks amused.

"I'm braiding your hair 'cause I'm bored." I answer. I love the feeling of her beautiful and soft hair on my hand.

"Okay." She chuckles.

"And also so that it doesn't hide your pretty face." I add quietly and finish braiding. I realize I'm thirsty and exclaim out of the blue. "Oh I didn't even ask you if you wanted something to drink! What kind of host am I?"

She laughs at me overreacting. "It's not a big deal don't worry."

"How about some red wine to redeem myself?" I suggest, knowing damn well she likes it.

"I think that's a good idea." She agrees, not at all taking me by surprise.

"Then, I'll be back in a sec." I leave the kitchen and grab a good bottle of wine from my wine rack. When I return, I take two glasses of wine and pour some in each. "Voilà pour vous Madame." (translation: Here you go, Mrs.) I say with my best french accent as I hand her the glass.