Dating Mr. CEO

20

FAY

  You know one of those things that are initially tagged as impossible? Those things we know can never happen in reality but in fantasy, those rare things that makes you raise questions, questions that requires a lot of answers, questions that has the ability to mess up your mind, making you think you're crazy or maybe seeing things.

Here I stood in the entrance to Elroy's kitchen, lured by the alluring aroma of bacon and eggs. Elroy stood there with his back facing me, making breakfast. I was probably still asleep for all I know but- this feels and looks too real to be a dream.

He was putting on his grey sweatpants and white body hug shirt. he considers shirts and sweatpants to be his own nightwear, despite how much I tried to convince him that it wasn't proper, I gave up eventually since he didn't feel the need to listen to me.

But that was the least of my problem now, the real issue here is that I don't understand the guy! One minute he says he wants to start over and the next he's jumping twenty miles over, throwing me completely off guard.

I have to say something. I can't let him catch me staring at him, it would only boast his-

He turned. Too late.

"Oh, you're awake. Just in time for break fast." He said with a smile- A smile? He freaking smiled at me like we were on good terms and nothing ever happened! He's acting like this was an everyday routine.

None of this makes sense to me.

"What is this?" I asked him.

"What is what?" He replied with a question, looking as clueless as a cat.

"You know what I'm talking about El, what are you doing?" I asked, as my eyes made a brief contact to the contents on the breakfast table.

He cocked a brow in confusion before realization dawned on his face. "Oh," he scratched the back of his neck. "You mean breakfast?"

"Yeah... Why are you preparing breakfast? Where did all the help go?" I asked him.

"Oh, I uh... Gave the chef a day off, he needed a break."

"Couldn't you ask someone else to do it? I mean... That can be arranged right?"

He sighed, "Is it a crime to make breakfast in my own kitchen?" He asked indignantly.

I raked my hands through my hair. "No, it's just odd. I never knew you had any idea where the kitchen was."

He rolled his eyes. "Of course I knew where the kitchen was. It's my house." He stated.

"Well then, I never knew you could cook. I don't see a cook book anywhere." I said, looking around.

He watched me with irritation. "I learnt how to cook."

I raised a brow in surprise. "Oh? When? Why?"

"A long time ago. And why, because I like the idea of making something edible for eating. And I love creating things and food happens to be part of those things." He answered.

I nodded. "Hm. So why are you making food now? Why haven't you been making food?"

"Who said I haven't? And why all these questions?" He asked, cocking a brow. "Why can't I make food without you suspecting something?"