INNOCENT (Gabe's Trials)

Mr. S

Gabriel's one hour had turned into six and even now I was wondering if maybe I shouldn't have left already. I was quite sure that he wasn't really expecting me to still be there by the time he was back and yet I couldn't make myself leave. Actually, I'd spent the last six hours watching TV, drinking wine and cooking dinner just so that I had a real reason for staying.

Why hadn't I left yet? What made me stay and wait for Gabriel? Those were the two questions I found it most difficult to answer, especially given the fact that only a couple of hours ago I would've been anxious to just get in and out of his house. So what was wrong with me? Are you kidding me? You honestly can't see that you're asking for it? That you're still here because you want some answers that would make it easier for you to give up on him. You want all the dirt, hoping that that dirt would make you hate him. That his past and even his present would push you away, since you obviously don't have it in you to give up on him by yourself. You want a fight, darling. A fight so big, that not even his touch could fix. And just like always, instead of helping me figure things out and maybe even calm myself down, my conscience -being her bitchy self- was messing further with my mind.

A loud beeping sound came from the oven and, standing up from the couch, I went to it, turning it off and pulling the tray full of french potatoes out and placing it onto the counter. Sniffing them out, I thanked God that I had found something to do for the last couple of hours. If it hadn't been for the cooking I would've literally lost my mind. Face it, doll. He keeps secrets from you. Important ones. Dangerous freaking ones. Secrets that concerne you and that could hurt you. You have all the reasons to hate and leave him already. What are you waiting for? God! If I could only silence the little bitch inside my head.

The sound of the front door beeing opened got my attention, my feet automatically taking me to the kitchen's archway. Gabriel was standing in the open door, getting rid of his shoes and jacket at the same time, my eyes taking in the perfect specimen of a man he was. Probably sensing my presence, he looked up, his troubled eyes giving me chills. Something had happened.

"What is it?" I whispered, praying for everything to be alright. Slightly shaking his head, Gabriel gave me a forceful smile.

"Nothing for you to worry about." Finishing with his shoes and jacket, he headed for me, a small but gentle smile pulling at the corner of his lips. "You're still here." Relief was written all over his face, a small sigh escaping him. Yeah, I couldn't quite believe it myself.

"You said you wanted me to stay, so I stayed." His gentle smile grew bigger, his eyes softening up while scanning my face.

"I also said that it would only take me an hour and it took me six. I'm not always getting it right." I couldn't tell if his words meant that he was happy that I was still there or not, but I tried not to look too much into it. That was not the time for that. "What's that smell?" Gabriel asked, sniffing the air out, a frown marring his forehead. I couldn't help but proudly smile up at him.

"French potatoes and fried chicken wings. To my complete surprise, I could actually find something to use for cooking in your kitchen." This actually brought a smile to his face. A real one. A smile full of happines and youth, maybe even a little excitement.

"You cooked?" A shred of admiration had snuck up into his tone, but then, just like that, his expression turned serious again. Too serious. "You didn't have to do that, you know? We have a cook here. Maria could've fixed something for dinner. Anything you might've wanted." So that's who Maria was. Another solved mistery.

"You mind it that I fixed dinner?" Leaving out a sigh, he slowly shook his head.

"That's not what I meant. God, no! I'm happy you fixed dinner and it smells heveanly. All I'm saying is that you didn't have to do it if you didn't want to." Digging my teeth into my lower lip, I turned around, heading for the kitchen table.