*Bruno*
“Am I just a plaything to you?” Lucia asked me. I was shocked at her question. And that was when it clicked. She must have overheard my conversation with Natasha. But I made it clear that wasn’t. She pressed her lips together. Though she tried to keep a straight face as if she didn’t care about whatever response I was going to give, her eyes gave her away.
“Did you stay to listen to me after listening to Natasha?” I asked her. I wanted to confirm. She moved her eyes from side to side. “What was the use?” She asked instead of answering. “Is that even important right now? Why can’t you just answer me? Is it because she is right? I’m a plaything after all. And here I thought we were friends,” she said, trying to look nonchalant. But I knew it was the opposite.
And here I was thinking she thought we were lovers or something. “Your silence already says everything,” she said, making the move to stand but I held her hand and dragged her back so she would sit back on the chair. “Why are you holding me back?” She asked, a hint of anger visible in her voice. “I am not interested in being your plaything Bruno. I think it would be best if we maintain our status and not try to get into each other’s way.” She says. Her eyes met mine, “you as the boss and I as your cook,” she said, trying to free her hands away from my hold.
I didn’t know what to call this. Was she jealous? Did she fall for me? She looked so beautiful trying to be calm when she was overwhelmed with different emotions. “Why are you holding me?” She asked.
I think it was time to speak and clarify whatever she was thinking.
“You should have stayed back to hear what I had said ,” I said, not giving her a chance to escape from my hold.
“As if it would have changed anything,” she scoffed.
“It would have changed a lot. At least, we wouldn’t be mistaken about each other,” I said to her. I paused to look at her face, studying her expression, “You didn’t hear that from me. I never said that you were a toy,” I said to her. “Natasha says whatever she wants without thinking,” I said.
“But that doesn’t change the fact that she may be right and you are just trying to justify all your actions right now. What? I piqued your interest?” She scoffed as if that was the most disgusting thing she had heard in a long time.
“You did pique my interest Lucia, That is the only reason you are seated here,” I said. “But in a good way,” she squinted her eyes and looked at me. “I’d have loved to explain but you don’t seem to want to listen to me,” I said.
She turned her head to the side, “fine, let’s hear what you have to say,” she said.
“It’s true you piqued my interest when I saw you. I liked the way you always defied me, but all I wanted was to be by the side of such a girl. I didn’t mean anything wrong. I…,’ I sighed. These past few days we have spent together in the club have made me know how much I wanted her. She means alot to me.
I liked the fact that she was sad when she heard she was just a plaything. It means she wanted something more. I know too well that she was hell-attracted to me as much as I was with her. That was why she was worried. Same reason she didn’t look happy when I walked out with Natasha.
And I wanted to tell her how I feel about her. I wanted her to know how much she meant to me. But not in this way. I didn’t want to tell her as a means to clarify anything. I wanted a special place. I’ll tell her how I feel but not today.
“To me, you are not a plaything. You are not a toy. And even if you were a toy, you would be that toy I want to carry around, that toy I want to show to all my friends and brag about how no one else can own such a beautiful toy. You would be that toy I would never throw off no matter how old I become,” I paused to catch my breath. “To me, no one can ever replace you,” I said.
Her eyes were fixed on me and I could tell that my words had a lot of effect on her. I hope she understood the meaning of those words.
She opened her mouth to speak but closed it as nothing came out. She didn’t know the right words to say. I brushed some strands of hair on her face. She was sitting so close to me.
The air seemed thicker. My eyes moved to her lips. The light was dim, but I could still make out her beautiful face. I leaned in and met her lips with hers. She didn’t move. Didn’t kiss me back. I withdraw to see her looking at me. Her eyes were teary. “Thank you, Bruno,” she said.
I pulled her in for a hug. She wrapped her hands around me pushing her body into mine. None of us wanted to let the other go.
***
I took her home. She couldn’t keep working hard to be with her. I didn’t want her out of my sight. I wanted her close to me. She was exhausted, maybe more mentally tired. I thought it would be nice to leave the space. To be somewhere else.
She quickly agreed when I told her to go home with me. When we got home, I decided to cook for her. “Are you sure you can handle a knife?” She asked me.
I laughed as I wore the apron around my neck. I had taken off my clothes, exposing my bare chest. It was better to cook without clothes. “If we were to compete in cooking, I would no doubt be the winner,” I said.
“You don’t even look like you can hold a kitchen knife. This isn’t the same thing as cutting someone’s hand or something,” she said.
“I told you my mom used to have a garden,” she nods. “What does that have to do with this?” She asked.
“It means I can cook and that I am not just some type of novice who hasn’t done this before,” I walked to the fridge to pick some veggies. “You are very lucky to be able to have a taste of my food,” I said to see her laugh. It was low and short but it felt good to see an attempt here.
“Do you need any help?” She asked.
I shook my head. I didn’t want her to do anything. I wanted to make up for the brief pain I had put her through. “All you need to do is sit back and watch me,” I said. She gave up trying to help me and leaned into the chair she sat in. Her eyes were pinned on me.
I went to work immediately.
I liked this feeling. I wanted to do this every time. I wanted to cook for her. I imagine cooking for her, and her sitting and watching me from where she sat. A small smile tugged on her lips just as it was now. I wanted to live this type of life with her.
I wasn’t a good cook. When my mom was alive, she didn’t teach us how to cook. We didn’t have a lot to cook so she did it alone. I had learnt a little as I grew up and fend for myself. But I knew that wasn’t enough to cook so I watched some YouTube videos.
I wanted to know what went through her mind as she watched me. I tried not to step back when I poured my nicely chopped vegetables into the hot pan, “it’s okay to be afraid of oil,” she said.
“Why should I be scared of oil?” I asked her, trying to hide my fear. “It’s obvious you are,” she says, suppressing a laugh. “Don’t try to hide it,” she said.
“I think you just want a partner in fright. Just because I know you are afraid of spiders, you want to look for something I’m afraid of,” I said. “Sorry to disappoint you but hot oil doesn’t scare me,” I said. Her ear coloured immediately.
“It’s okay to be afraid,” she defended.
“But being afraid of spiders? Come on,” I said laughing.
“Don’t you think you are missing something?” She asked. I tried to keep my eyes on the food and on her too, “what might that be?” I asked, trying to rack my head in thought of what it could be. “What did I forget?” I asked her.
“The vegetables,” she said. I squinted my eyes trying to rack my head on what she was talking about. And that was when it clicked and then one side of my lips pulled to the side, “they aren’t fresh,” she said.
How did I forget? I wondered. I was so indulged in what I was trying to make that I forgot about the veggies.
“I think I’ll have to make an exception today,” I said to her nod.
“Guess you don’t die when you eat vegetables which weren’t newly plucked,” she said.
“I never said I would die,” I said. I was done with the veggies and was trying to make an egg. “I told you that I preferred fresh veggies,” I reminded her in case she forgot. “This doesn’t happen every time,” I said.
“How about when you go to the restaurant, and you are served? They may not have used the vegetables of your choice when making the food,” she had a point.
“That’s why I don’t visit just any restaurant,” I said.
“You might as well open your restaurant,” she said. “You are too picky,” she says.
“Am I now?” I asked a small chuckle escaping my lips. We kept discussing. There were a lot of things we didn’t have in common. Like our choice of restaurant and our choice of fun. But at least we both liked the beach. We both liked being there at night as the waves of the ocean hit the rock.
The food was ready in a few minutes. She offered to set the table but I didn’t agree with her, to think a day like this would come when I’d cook for a lady and treat her like a queen was something I never thought I’d do. But Lucia was different. With her I acted in reverse doing things I would never do.
The food didn’t come out the best but it was bad and I got her compliment.
After eating, we moved to the sitting room to watch a movie. I ordered chicken and popcorn and brought down wine. She was more excited than I was. But I was more happy. My happiness lies in her happiness.
We switched off the lights, giving the sitting room a cinema vibe.
The movie was about a boy who hated a girl but the girl loved the boy and slowly she made him fall for her.
It was just like Lucia and I. Just as I slowly made her fall for me. At the end of the movie, the couple kissed. A deep French kiss and I suddenly wanted to kiss Lucia. She was sitting close to me. Too close not to want her when the mood was set.
When she turned to look at me, I could see she wanted to see. She was about to turn away when I held her face and kept her eyes on me.
Before I could lean to take her lips in mine, she beat me by pulling me closer and she locked her lips with mine.
I froze for a moment before kissing her back. Her lips were soft and sweet.
But what was sweeter was the fact that she had made the first move.