Before Take Off

24. a good chef

*This was a rather difficult chapter for me to write down, hope that you'll like it. xx*

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"I found happiness dancing in your arms, feeling your body pressed against mine and your beating heart all over my chest. I want to trust the reason of my happiness, I want the suppressed emotions fall out of my lips. But how can I, if you don't trust me enough?"

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"You coming or what?" I asked and swiveled in my spot to glance back over my shoulder at Lewis, who was preparing coffee for both of us.

He was standing before the kitchen counter, his slightly tousled, fair curls hanging over his forehead as he gingerly poured a small amount of Bailey's into two posh looking cocktail glasses, before throwing in some ice cubes. Once he added the ice, they collided with each other, letting out a satisfying clattering sound as they spattered a few droplets of coffee liquor over his black shirt. The afternoon light that was breaking through the Victorian styled windows was falling directly over on one side of his face, lightening up his facial features, causing his hazel eyes to turn into a tint of green.

I bit down at my lower lip, trying to refrain myself from getting attracted to his chiseled figure. However, it was a rather hard task since all he had been offering me since the very beginning of my journey was his charming and self-assured personality, not to mention his witty remarks.

Lewis and I had returned straight back to the apartment, after sorting out the winner of our brief baking contest, him draping his arm across my shoulders as usual, while we had treaded lightly on the concrete pavement with matching steps. Once we were inside of the flat number 9, he had buckled down to prepare 'the most appetizing, caffeinated beverage of all time', if expressed in his own words, whereas I had slumped down onto the comfy couch, reaching out for the remote control in order to find a good movie that we could enjoy together.

He glanced up before reaching out for the carton of lactose free milk and ripping up the lid swiftly. I smiled shyly at him and he readily returned the favor by plastering a crooked smile across his lips.

"I'll join you shortly after, birdie," He replied, his adorable accent perceptible in his deep, alluring tone of voice. His eyes gleamed with a subtle hint of mischief in them, before he spun around his index finger in the air, gesturing for me to turnabout. "Feel free to get started with the movie."

I'd prefer watching you, I thought to myself but kept my mouth shut, as I didn't want the words slipping out through my lips and feeding his ego. He flashed me a devilish smirk, as if he could read through my mind, before filling up the glasses with cold milk and pouring plain, black coffee over the mixture as the finishing touch.

He strode over the red couch that I was perched on and handed me the iced-coffee, before reaching out over my head for the vintage looking glasses that were sitting on the coffee table by the couch.

I studied him after taking a sip of my drink, soaking up the quaint vibe that his wide, round glasses created upon his face. "Schmancy glasses," I pointed out, my lips curling up into an approving smile. "I didn't know that you wore glasses, though."

He shrugged before plopping down onto the couch next to me, ruffling up my already quite disheveled waves with his large hand. "There's a lot that you don't know about me," He stated in a teasing manner, his hazel eyes boring into mine, reminding me about our little bet. "Shall we get on with the movie already?" He pointed at the television with the tip of his chin, where the title sequence of the movie, The Truman Show, was put on pause.