Pest Control ✔

PC │020

【A L V I N】

Unfortunately I ended up having lunch at my place, but Lucien did drop me over at work - and about three and a half hours later, he picked me up from work and drove the both of us back to his place. Because it was nearly eight o' clock, he offered to prepare dinner and teach me how to cook as well (quite the deal, if you ask me), and so I couldn't refuse. 

Only problem was that we were barely a minute or two in and I'd already managed to nearly set the kitchen on fire about a hundred times at least whilst apologizing like a Canadian. 

"Okay, now crack the egg," Lucien instructed, standing behind me and watching intently. I followed his instructions and cracked the egg just as I'd been told, and he let out a sigh of relief, "Finally, you managed to do something right."

"Oh shut up," I snorted with an amused expression on my face. "What do I do next?"

"Season the eggs, I'll drain the pasta," he spoke before making his way over to the stove as I attempted to season the eggs without making it too spicy or salty. Once I was done, I turned around and waited for the next instructions. 

"That's all," he said with a grin before filling two plates with pasta. "Can you try taking the eggs off the stove?"

I didn't respond and simply turned around to do just that before I was oh so rudely interrupted, "Wait. You might burn yourself, let me do it instead."

"But your hand's injured, not mine," I noted. 

"It's healing," he said with a blunt shrug before making his way over to the stove and switching it off. "Take a seat, I'll bring the plates over to the table."

"Let me help you with that, at least?" I pleaded with a pout. 

"Stop looking at me like that," he snorted, shaking his head at me. "You look stupid."

"That's exactly what you said the first time that we spoke," I recollected before making my way over to the dining table and sitting down. Once he'd finished getting the eggs off the stove, he placed both of them onto each of the plates and made his way over to the table I was seated at, plates in hand.

"This looks amazing," I commented, taking in the sweet, sweet smell. "Where did you even learn to cook like this?"

"My mom is Italian, and the other one is French," he responded with a shrug. "Both of them were great cooks. They taught me everything I needed to know."

"Your moms must be proud of you then," I responded with a grin. "You seem to be a great cook as well."

"I'm nowhere near as talented as them," he confessed. "What about you? Why can't you cook for shit?"

"Oh fuck off, cut me some slack," I chuckled. "I never had a good relationship with my family - and I know just because I'm Italian people automatically assume that I'm great at cooking, but I never really got to learn."

"I'm sorry about that," he said with a heavy sigh. "I can't imagine how stressful it must have been for you. I'm used to getting an overwhelming amount of affection from my parents. I can't imagine my life without it."

"I'm happy for you," I admitted. 

"Mhm," he hummed, before clearing his throat. "Hey, Alv?"

"Yeah?" 

"I'm really glad that roach woke you up at three in the morning," he confessed. "You're an amazing person. It's almost like you showed up in my life at the right time, you know? Sorry if I'm being cheesy."

"You're not being cheesy at all," I reassured, unable to hold back the smile that made its way onto my face. "I feel the same way. Thank you for being so talented when it comes to killing roaches."

"Of course," he said with a smile that reflected his amusement. 

"By the way, you said you can figure skate, right?" 

"Yeah, why?" 

"Can you teach me?" I questioned shyly, scratching the back of my neck. "I've always wanted to learn but I never got the chance to."

"I'd be honored," he said, reaching over the table just to flick my forehead. "I'm glad you asked, actually. I've always wanted to teach someone."

"I don't have any skates though," I confessed, chewing the inside of my cheek.

"I do have a few skates in my room, maybe one of them might fit you," he suggested. "You can go and try them on while I'm doing the dishes."

"Hey, no, I'm not going to let you do the dishes," I insisted. "Your hand is still not fully healed, for crying out loud. Please, let me do it."

"Do I have a say in this?" he questioned, tilting his head at me in such an innocent manner that I couldn't help but smile. 

"Not at all," I informed to which he let out a childish whine followed by: "Fine, Captain's orders."

I'd never really stopped to think about it before, but as we proceeded to consume our food in silence that was anything but awkward or uncomfortable, I ran over everything that had taken place in the past few weeks. It would be an understatement to say that meeting Lucien and getting the opportunity to have someone like him in my life was a blessing. It was more than just a blessing. 

He was the most down-to-Earth, collected, unique and oddly strange man I'd met other than my small circle of friends. An oddly strange man that I'd taken a liking to. I felt like I could be myself when I was around him and he wouldn't judge me for it, and let me tell you, that's one of the best feelings in the world. 

And for sure, there were a lot of things I was unsure about at that moment, but one thing was for sure: I didn't want to lose the friendship we'd been gifted with.