Contractual Candy

Gangster Rap & Meatballs

As soon as the door opened, the aroma hit you. The smell of garlic and tomatoes wafting outwards towards the doorway. John ushered you in, and overtook you in the direction of the kitchenette. You followed him meekly, conscious of the way you walked and what you were doing with your hands. You were nervous and your throat was dry.

As you turned the corner the sight hit you harder than the smell had, Tom was in the kitchen, stood over the stove. He was stirring some kind of sauce in a huge pot, and had gangsta rap oozing from a portable speaker device by the utensils.

"Girl no need to be so tight lipped, all these bitches know you got me pussy whipped"
he rapped along, spinning on his heel as john placed a hand on his back. He looked like he was ready to fight someone with the ladle he was holding and his face fell as he saw you behind John, a revealing smirk on your face.

He leant to turn off the music.
"Shit mate, you could have warned me, what happened to phoning?" He said his eyes crinkling at John, before his gaze turned to you again.

"We were late anyway Tommy, thought you'd be ready. Do you need anything before I clock off? John said.

"Nah mate, get going, all I need is right here" he said, a serious and intense look in his face as he took you in.

John saluted you both and left, you heard the door clicking shut behind him and shuffled on your heels uncomfortably. You were a little over dressed compared to Tom.

He had on black jeans, but his feet were bare, and his crisp navy shirt was open at the collar, exposing half his chest and the tattoos and necklaces that were ever present across it.

"Literally lost track of time" he started... wandering over to you.
"You look beautiful. Like another level of stunning" he uttered, devouring you with his eyes. You wished you hadn't put so much leg on show and pulled the hem of the dress down slightly, wavering under his stare.

"I'm just finishing up dinner, hope you're hungry" he said.

"Starving!" Your first words a little croaky.
"Good good, cmon, come over" he said taking your hand and leading you to the table he had been eating breakfast at the last time you saw him.
It was adorned with romantic placements and you blushed a little at the sight of it. You hadn't expected this amount of effort.
There were two plates on opposite ends of the table from each other, a midnight black tablecloth adorned with red rose petals and little tea light candles dotted around. There were two large wine glasses, two small glass tumblers, utensils, napkins and condiments.
The lights were dimmer in this section, and you squinted at the red rose he had left on your chair.
As you reached it, he held it out for you, smiling as you thanked him.

You couldn't believe he was making the food himself, it was all so intimate you felt sad that it could only ever be temporary.

"What's up babe?" He asked furrowing his brow, obviously noticing your less than happy expression.

"Nothing, this is. This is all lovely" you said gesturing to the table. "I wasn't expecting it that's all" you replied.
He leant down and kissed you on the forehead.
"Il be back in ten minutes, pour yourself a wine or something" he suggested.
You did and you glugged it back, it was sweeter than you were used to and as he returned you were ogling the label trying to decipher if it was authentic french wine or something similarly posh and fancy.

"Bourgogne Pinot Noir" he uttered at you. "My favourite"

"I thought you didn't drink" you replied before you could stop yourself. oops a revelation of your fangirling.

"Don't believe everything you read" he said, placing food bowls on the table.
"I can unwind with a nice wine accompanying my meal- I'm no raging alcoholic" he said chuckling.
You blushed at the suggestion.

"So it's spaghetti and meatballs" he said "and I'm not sure what it tastes like because it's probably the first meal I've cooked since 1992 when I burnt the beans on toast" he said winking at you. You couldn't tell if he was joking or not but you laughed anyway.

He sat down opposite you and gestured for you to plate your own up from the bowls. There were dishes of rich red sauce and meatballs, spaghetti strands and Parmesan cheese with herbs. It looked and smelt divine, rather like the man opposite you.

As you lifted the first mouthful to your lips you jumped at the clatter of knives and forks hitting his plate.

"Orghhh fuck."
"Shit..... Elughhhff" tom spat something into a napkin as you looked up at him bewildered.

"Sorry love that's really bad." He said his eyes watering.
"I wasn't joking I can't cook for shit I don't know why I thought it was a good idea- don't try it!!! Scrap it, I'll order some room service" he said sitting back, his face screwed up in disgust.

You couldn't help your reaction then, you started laughing hysterically over your wine glass and doubling over with the shakes.
You covered your mouth to drown out the snorting you knew might come next, your sides hurting from the amusement. Tom laughed his head off in unison, swigging some wine to cancel out the taste of the sauce.

"I have to try it, it's only fair, you went to so much effort" you said holding your hands up in defeat.

You thrust the fork in your mouth and started to chew, pinching your nose at the sour taste it excreted. How the fuck had he messed tomato meatballs up. It was comical. You downed some more wine as the bitter after taste finally left you.

"Let's order Chinese" Tom chuckled, holding his hand out to escort you away from the table and the terrible food.