restored love

12

OLIVIA

I haven't seen Tristan since that night. He's been avoiding me. So much for being friends. I try to stay up to see him but I end up falling asleep on the couch and I wake up with a blanket over my body and he's gone.

I have started to cook. Well, Alyssa and Ezra have been teaching me. I now cook meals for Tristan before I sleep and they are gone in the morning. So at least he's eating. That is what a friend would do, right?

I could feel my eyes gradually closing. It was way past midnight. As I was about to get up and go back to my bedroom, I hear the door open and my eyes shoot open. He was there. In his blue scrubs. Suddenly I wasn't tired anymore.

He looks shocked to see me awake. "You're still up?" he asks.

I haven't heard his voice in days and I feel like I've been in misery.

I clear my throat. "Yeah. I was waiting for you."

"Why."

I didn't know what to say. Why did I even stay up for him? I stand up and grip the blanket closer to my body. "It's stupid don't worry. Goodnight." I say, walking off to my room.

He grabs my forearm, forcing me to turn and face him. "Tell me." he repeats, his blue eyes burning into mine even in the dark.

I open my mouth. "I just thought we were friends. But you hate me and I understand because I was being a bitch to you that night and now you're avoiding me." I ramble. I need to shut my mouth.

His brows furrow in confusion. "That was a lot." he murmurs to himself. "But backtrack. Firstly, I don't hate you. I couldn't hate you even if I tried-"

"Then why avoid me?" I interrupt.

"Let me finish off my speech." he says, rolling his eyes dramatically.

"Secondly, I haven't been avoiding you. Work is getting a bit out of hand recently and I've just been distracted. And thirdly, you weren't being a bitch to me."

I sigh. "Sorry. It's late and I'm just tired." I sheepishly grin.

He lightly smiles at me. "Have you eaten today?"

I open my mouth but shut it. "Seriously?" he asks, his playful expression dropping.

"I ate breakfast but then I got distracted with work. I had to do three modelling shoots today."

"I'm going to make you something to eat."

I shake my head. "Please don't bother. I'm not that hungry."

"If you don't eat what I make you, I'll feed you it but I don't really think that's something friends would do," he says, accentuating the word friends.

Heat crawls up my neck and I murmur "Yeah probably not."

He chuckles before walking to the kitchen. "If you haven't noticed. I have actually become a chef." I say, following him to the kitchen and taking a seat on the stool.

He cocks a brow at me as he takes some ingredients from the cabinets. "I have noticed. I eat the cooking you leave out. I'm guessing you leave it for me?" it wasn't a question but his tone made it sound like one.

"I do." I confess. "We're friends, aren't we? Friends usually cook for each other." I say.

His eyes look up to meet mine. An undetectable emotion fills them. "Friends," he repeats as if the word was venom in his mouth.

"Friends," I confirm.

"I'm assuming you cover me with a blanket when I sleep on the couch." I say.

"Yeah. I wouldn't want you getting sick." he says.