Chapter Eight ~ Russia

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Alfred silently follows behind me as I walk him to his room. Just be patient. You will be able to get rid if this annoying brat in the morning.

I open the door to his room, and again he is amazed as he walks in. I chuckle softly to myself.

"I will you let you know when I have de dinner ready."

He doesn't reply, so I shut his door and walk down the hall to my own room. I have the heat on, so there is no need for me to wear this coat and my scarf. I take off both, putting them in a basket of dirty clothes.

I walk into the joined bathroom, and open the mirror cabinet to reveal various medicines, ointments, and gauze. I don't want it to be flashy, so I grab some gauze similar to my skin color.

With out choking myself, but also making sure its tight enough to be secure, I wrap the gauze around my neck, concealing my scars. I hook the end and gaze at my completed task.

It's not really noticeable, so hopefully Alfred will be too busy pigging out to notice it. Which means I need to make extra food tonight.

I walk back out of my bathroom and bedroom, and stroll into my kitchen. Looking through my cabinets and seeing what ingredients I have, I decide to make rassolnik. It's a soup made from pickled cucumbers, pearl barley, and beef kidneys or pork. But I only have the beef kidneys, so that's what I will use.

I don't care if Alfred will like it, it sounds good to me. I grab the ingredients, and begin making the soup. Only I make a triple batch. If he has his usual appetite, he'll eat a lot.

But why am I worried about whether or not he'll have enough to eat? I don't even know if he will eat any at all! He is so picky.

I shrug and decide that that damn American can eat leftovers if he doesn't like it. I hear faint footsteps coming my way, and Alfred is soon right behind me trying to look over my shoulder at what I'm doing.

"Hey dude! I got bored in my room. Whatcha doing?" He stands on his tiptoes, just barely tall enough to see over my shoulder.

"Ah I'm making dinner." I can hear his soft breathing and it annoys me. I move away from stirring the soup, and start heating up some canned homeny to go along with the soup. I mostly move away to get away from Alfred and his damn breathing.

"Cool! What is it? Is smells funny." He looks into the pot of boiling soup and scrunches his nose slightly.

"It's de traditional Russian dish called rassolnik. You will like it." I don't know if this is true, but it lights his face up.

"Sweet! I like a lot of weird stuff so I guess this is worth trying." He leaves my side and sits at the island, swinging his feet back and forth.

He can't sit still for two seconds can he?

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