Love: Military Style

Love: Military Style Chpt. 4

*****

I fell into the calming process of cooking. Using canned soup had only been a joke. Cooking was one of my favorite things to do, and David's mom, Sara, loved coming home to my meals. Her husband had left 4 years ago, never looking back, and appreciated the help that I gave with cooking. Settling into the movements, I was soon humming along to my background music. I looked up to see Theo leaning against the doorway, watching me.

My heart skipped a beat as I looked back into his beautiful blue eyes. He still wasn't wearing a shirt, and I couldn't help but think that he was doing it to just to spite me. My eyes shot down to the chicken I was dicing for the soup, and his slight chuckle infuriated me.

Ass hole.

"How long have you known David?" he asked as he walked over to the island and sat down.

"Since freshmen year, when he punched a kid in the face for making fun of my height."

"Well, I know why he was teasing you, you are pretty sho-" I cut him off with a glare and threw a carrot at him. He caught it and began gnawing it.

"How long have you had a key?" I rolled my eyes, realizing that it was time for the Spanish Inquisition.

"The same amount of time. My uncle forgot to come get me, and your mom had one made for me after she had picked me up walking home in the rain," I answered, focusing on the celery.

"You live with your uncle?" 

"Since I was a baby, " I replied.

I knew what question came next. Holding up my hand to stop it, I dumped the celery into the broth as I prepared the usual honest speech about my mother. Liars pissed me off, and so did evasive people. Honesty, even when painful, was my rule. Bluntness was my specialty.

"My mother abandoned me when I was born. The courts found my uncle, and he adopted me." I paused, thinking of my bewildered uncle coming home, with a newborn child, and no idea what he had to do. 

"He gave me everything, the best childhood I could have ever asked for." And it was true. My uncle was well off, and gave me what I asked for. I had piano lessons starting at 4, and a baby grand piano by 8 when my talents outgrew my teachers. I got the car that I wanted when my 16th birthday rolled around. He indulged me, and he cared for me. So what if he had forgotten things? At least he loved me, and took care of me.

"I'm sorry."

"What do you mean?" If he was pitying me, I was going to go ape shit. I didn't need pity. Fuck that. My life was great, nobody would complain about being in my shoes.

"I'm sorry that you went through that," he said softly.

"It didn't make an impression. I was just an infant. My uncle is all I've ever had, and all I've ever needed," my voice sounding flat as I struggled not to scream at him. Screaming at him for pitying me, and acting as if I was some hurt puppy.

He got up and grabbed a knife and second chopping board. Reaching for a carrot, he quirked his eyebrow at me, knowing that I doubted his cooking abilities. I simply turned back my carrots, and hid a smile.

*****

David had loved the soup. He fell asleep after finishing his bowl. Sara was ecstatic, and shooed me away from the dishes. I went home, and proceeded to play my piano for an hour. 

Theo swirled through my head, causing me to struggle with the chord that I was caressing. I shook my head, and ignored where my head was going with him. My fingers mindlessly skimmed over the keys, creating melodies and weaving harmonies.