Torn Tears

Blood

I wake to the smell of burning food and the sound of clanking cookware laced with staccato curses.

Jess.

Dragging my feet, I make myself leave my bed and go to the kitchen.

"Oh, Jess," I say tiredly.

As expected, she jumps and turns to me. Wide-eyed, she demands to know when I got up.

Stifling a grin, I say, "As soon as I got the idea you might be trying to burn down the apartment complex."

"The pancakes wanted to be pyromaniacs." She squints at me defensively.

"And the bacon strips wanted to immolate themselves?" I chuckle.

"Obviously." She rolls her eyes.

I roll my eyes, too and walk to the stove to assess the damage.

The pancake she had been working on was indeed stuck and burnt to the pan. I pitied the pigs that had became the blackened bacon. Her attempt at breakfast was a lost cause.

"Would you like me to step in, Chef Burns-A-Lot?"

"Your stove is possessed by the devil himself." She laughs.

I've missed her laugh, much more than I noticed. In this moment, I swear I would do anything to keep her happy for the rest of her life. My love tears my heart a little bit more.

"You okay?" Her laughter is replaced by a furrowed brow and a concerned frown.

"What? Yeah, I'm great." Oh, how we could never lie to each other. We're both horrible at it.

"For a while, I thought I was the only one incapable of lying." She touches my shoulder, just briefly. A reassurance that we're in this together, likely more for her benefit than mine.

"So I'm guessing you want me to make new pancakes and bacon for breakfast, then."

"Yeah. But show me how," She lifts her gaze to meet my eyes.

I don't tell her that before I tried countless times to get her to let me teach her how to cook. "I'll always have you to cook for me, so why do I need to know?" That was her response. I know she doesn't know how it bothers me, but it does.

I push my lips into a smile. "Absolutely."

*****

It's 10:30 before breakfast is made. The pancakes and bacon are perfect--I did most of the work. Jess gave up a mere ten minutes into the lesson.

"Yeah. Something tells me you've tried to teach me before now and I didn't like it." She says through a bite.

My mouth tilts up a bit. "Understatement, Jess. You hated cooking."

"I love eating, though. I'm sure of that much."  She grins in a knowing way.

"Yes. And I like both, but hate dishes so you do those to make up for not cooking." I keep a straight face for as long as I can.

"I'm fairly certain I don't like dishes either." She thrums her long, spidery fingers on the table and I want so badly to entwine my fingers in hers.

So, I do. And I plant the trouble-making grin on my face too.

Shock, barely registers on her face. "You're too good for this world, Royal."

"I always said that about you, Clearwater." It's true. I called her Angel sometimes. She is too gentle for this life. Except for when she's mad. When she's mad, you had better steer clear from her.