(18+ EXPLICIT CONTENT)
"I'm good at other things too, sweetheart," His voice was gruff and husky, my lips unconsciously parting in a daze. He's standing dangerously close to me, trapping me between him and my cupboards. The tension is suffocating an...
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The wooden floors creaked as my foot pressed deeply into the surface, only the dimmed kitchen light illuminating the surrounding areas. From what I could discern, the walls were utterly vacant, sporting a couple photos here and there, but otherwise bare. His furniture choices weren't exactly my cup of tea, but it was pleasing to know he had put forth some type of effort. Bachelors like him certainly didn't hold the decorative stereotype.
"Not too bad, eh?" Jack inquired, though, he seemed to have already observed my perceiving eyes. It caused me to glance backward to his slanted figure, trailing my eyes over his enlarged biceps before shrugging my shoulders up.
"It's much better than I was expecting, but you have such a beautiful canvas! You need to utilize the space you have and accent the unique characteristics that come with it." I gestured around the room, pointing out some of the arches and lifting my eyebrows up. It was simply just advice, but I could tell Jack took some offense, pursing his lips and creasing his forehead.
"You're telling me this isn't good enough for you?" There was this mischievous untone to his words and I knew he was on the track of picking an argument--something he was unusually good at. Therefore, I sucked in a breath and stared directly into his eyes, shaking my head side to side like a scolding mother.
He cracked a smile.
This resulted in my eyes rolling and a light scoff to emit from my lips, my body turning towards the partially-obstructed, intriguing kitchen. I couldn't help but slowly begin to float towards the white cabinets and greyish countertops, the two sets of french double-doors reflecting my dazzled expression. It was all I ever wanted in a kitchen, something I yearned for when the pictures would pop up on pinterest.
There was the stainless steel appliances and the elongated island that seated four people, the sink directly in front of the sleek, silver stools. As well, the breakfast nook was placed in a coveted corner that expanded outward with windows looking out towards the green trees and the white wooden porch. My breath hitched as I slid my fingers against the cool surface, utterly amazed as how gorgeous it was.
"I would never stop cooking if my kitchen looked like this," I declared with a breathless voice, my head shaking left to right with pure astonishment. My eyes didn't find his until there was an absence of sound, detecting his leaned body against the refrigerator. He stood with a ghostly smile over his lips, though, his expression was completely somber--like he was trying to conceal the response he wanted to give.
After a moment, he faltered and stared down towards the ground, "I'm pretty big on cooking, just never really have time." There was another silence that fell over us, my eyes lingering on his face in hopes of understanding his secretive feelings. When nothing came to light, I softly hummed and nodded my head in agreement, knowing if I had been lacking with my cooking as well.
