*Lucia*
My eyes moved from the green bell pepper at the side to the yellow. Seeing all of them clustered together fascinated me. It was a beautiful sight. I just couldn’t get enough. Who knew this heartless mafia would have something this beautiful and charming in the house?
“Well, that’s so,” my eyes moved to the side. I caught sight of a spider running to hide behind one of the plants. My heartbeat accelerated, frightened. I screamed and jumped, thinking it was about to run towards me. I missed a foot and began to fall backwards. I shrieked.
Bruno quickly wrapped his hands around me, preventing me from falling to the ground. My hands moved to wrap around his neck swiftly for support. When I felt his hands around my butt, my hands widened. It was more embarrassing than falling.
I pulled away from him quickly.
“Are you alright?” He asked, concern written in his voice. It felt a bit warm to see him care for me. He was quick to protect me and though I hated to admit it, I liked that. I liked the fact that He has always been quick to protect me, just like how he saved me from being killed in the flames by those men. Though I didn’t thank him, I was extremely grateful.
“What happened? Why did you scream?” He asked and I looked to the side to see the spider sticking one of its legs out of where it hid. “Don’t tell me you are afraid of spiders,” he says, holding back a giggle.
“Who said I am?” I asked, puffing my chest to show that I was bold. “Even if I am scared, everyone has a thing or two they are afraid of,” I said defensively.
” But not something as small as a spider,” he said, and a chuckle escaped his lips. He looked relaxed, and although I refused to admit it, I thought he was handsome, more handsome in the casual clothes he wore.
I didn’t want him to dwell on the topic. “So, who picks the veggies and brings them down?” I asked him. “I am a cook, and you don’t expect me to come down here to pick veggies for you all because you want to eat fresh veggies,” I said. I didn’t want to do it, not that I saw it as a task or something. I didn’t want to waste my time trying to be good to him, it’s not as if I was a lover of cooking.
“What? Scared of meeting spiders?” He teased me.
“I never said that,” I said, but from the look on his face, I could tell he didn’t believe me. I couldn’t care less about explaining to him in detail. I looked around the big greenhouse before walking forward and taking a bend. He walked behind me. I could feel his eyes on me. I didn’t want to turn, and he was not saying anything, which made the greenhouse oddly quiet.
“Why aren’t any of the workers here?” I asked him, as the place was empty without a single soul working. These were fragile vegetables which needed care regularly, “don’t tell me you want to take care of it by yourself today?” I asked sarcastically.
“At least I have you here,” he said, and I scoffed, “You should be a hard worker; your hands look strong,” he moved to take my hands and raised them slightly.
“You wish,” I said, moving my hands roughly. “I’ll help you take them down. The ones you’d harvest. If I do any strenuous work, I may not be able to cook,” I said to him.
“That’s a first. I’ve never heard anything like that before,”
“Well, you just heard it,” I said, and he laughed, muttering something about how lazy I was, but I could care less about him.
We walked around the greenhouse for some time.
Bruno went to the side and brought a basket, and we harvested some of the veggies. Though I hate to say it, I did enjoy my time with him. The time he felt like every other man. Simple.
As we walked back, we spoke about his childhood. He didn’t grow up as the best man. He didn’t have the best thing, and I was a bit surprised at how humble his beginning has been. I noticed he didn’t go into details about himself, like some things seemed hard for him to speak out, and I understood it.
He took the basket to the kitchen and placed it on the table. I walked behind him, taking a stand behind the table. I stared at the basket of fresh veggies. He hit his hands together, dusting off the invisible dirt on it. “You know what to prepare; I’ll be upstairs,” he says before walking off. I stared at him until he went out of sight.
I secretly wished he would be like this all the time. I secretly wished he would keep caring about me. Going to the greenhouse to pick up fresh veggies and then coming back together, then cooking together. I wondered how he would look if he had an apron over his neck, probably on his bare thigh chest. That would indeed be a wonderful sight to behold.
Or he lays down on the kitchen table, his eyes staring straight at the ceiling, and I am on top of him, making pastries on him and licking the flour off his chest with my tongue. My lips were slightly open as I envisaged it all.
I snapped out of it quickly.
‘What the hell are you thinking, Lucia, do not forget he is an enemy,’ I scolded myself. I quickly took the veggies off the basket, laid them on the table, and then placed the basket to the side. I started cooking immediately.
I made sure I followed each and everything he said. To think he even had a recipe on how to make his dish made me wonder why he didn’t come to make it himself.
When breakfast was served, I called him from his room. I placed his food on the dining table and told him I would be going to my room to change my clothes and relax. “You won’t be eating with me?” He asked, and I almost rolled my eyes. ‘why would I want to?’ “No. I’ll come down to eat later,” I said.
“You won’t. You will come down immediately after you are done with whatever you are doing in your room,” I raised a brow, “you will watch me eat even though you don’t want to eat,” he commanded. He has gone back to the way he spoke. “Don’t keep me waiting,” he said before walking out of the room towards the dining room.
As he walked downstairs, I wondered if the way he spoke and behaved had anything to do with the way he was dressed, as he had taken off the casual clothes he was wearing and was back to dressing like the mafia boss he was. He wore black trousers and a white shirt which had the first three buttons undone.
Fine.
If he wants me to watch him, then I will. I went into my room and changed before going downstairs to sit beside him. I watched as he ate, nodding his head. He seemed to like the food a lot, though he didn’t compliment my cooking skills or anything. I wondered if he didn’t compliment it because he was too proud. Or maybe I surpassed his expectations so much that he couldn’t speak.
“Why not eat instead of sitting there like a statue,” he said, lifting his head for the briefest moment to look at me. I wanted to reply but decided to hold my word. What good could come out of exchanging words with him? I decided to eat, not because he asked, though.
He didn’t speak much as he ate. He was done before me, as he started earlier.
I also tried to concentrate on my food without looking at him. After eating, he took a sip from the orange juice I had squeezed out of a glass close to him. I raised my head to watch him gulp it down after taking two sips. Some drops slide through the corner of his lips, running down his throat. I watched as Adam’s apple moved up and down.
He looked so sexy. I wanted to touch him there.
What if my hands were replaced with my tongue? He placed the glass on the table with a light thud after drinking it. I quickly looked down, avoiding eye contact. My heart beats fast behind my chest. And I tried to steady it-stupid heart. I cursed.
“The food is so delicious. I knew you were a great cook, but never expected you to be this good,” he says, finally giving me the compliment I was craving for. A smile threatened to form on my lips, but I hid it. “I would have opened a restaurant for you; with these skills, you’d do great in that aspect. But no. I don’t want to share all your food with anyone,” he sounded positive, but I liked it.
“What if I had poisoned the food?” I asked him. “What if you died after eating?” I asked him.
“I told you before, I don’t mind dying in your hands. And a poison this sweet? Give me more, baby,” he says, grinning from ear to ear. He wiped his hand on the napkin, and for a while, my eyes moved to his chest. His tattoo was peeping out of the white bottom down he wore.
I looked down, wanting to go eat my food as fast as possible and leave him behind. As I ate, I felt him move forward. I froze, looking at him. The gold necklace he wore moved forward, dangling on his neck. His hands moved to my lips. “What do you think you are doing?” I asked him.
“You have something on your lips, who knew you’d be a baby who needs a napkin,” he said.
“Where? I can wipe it off myself,” I said, but he didn’t build it and moved closer.
“Why aren’t my hands moving them?” He asked, and before I could comprehend what was happening, he met his lips with mine, kissing me lightly. When he moved back, he said, “There. It’s finally done,” my eyes widened. He just stole a kiss and is pretending to have done nothing.
I covered both hands with my hands, trying to think of the best words to say.
“This food is sweet, but you, my sweet girl, taste better,” he says, and my cheeks get warm. I was certain he saw me blushing. I tried to convince myself that it was because it was out of anger and nothing else.
***
The next days had to do with me cooking for Bruno. I made food each day. The three meals are complete. I had meals with him. He never missed a chance to flirt or say cheesy things. It was a hassle at first, but somehow, I began to miss his company when he wasn’t there with me. I always looked forward to eating with him.
As for Rave, I avoided him with everything I had. I still couldn’t bring myself to see him. What if he was angry? I had used him. And it seems like he understood as he tried to also stay out of my path.
I sighed as I thought about Rave while I chopped the veggies that would be used to prepare dinner. I kept looking at the door, expecting Bruno to walk through any moment. He usually came before I was done cooking. But today seemed like an exception. He still wasn’t here when I was done.
After setting the table, I walked to the sitting room. When I heard the door click open, I rushed forward involuntarily, but when I saw Bruno, I gasped. Blood dripped from his stomach. He fell on me immediately after he entered inside.
Fear gripped me. What happened to him?