2:03pm:
"Welcome to the heart of my life: my kitchen!" she exclaims. "Let's bake cookies, I'm starving."
Shit. I've never baked cookies before in my life. She takes ingredients out of the cupboards that are too high for me to reach and her shirt
pulls up slightly, revealing her pale tummy. I stare at her figure, completely entranced.
"Becs, could you get out the whisks and stuff? They should all be in the low drawers so you can probably reach them."
She winks and I feel my heart melt. I roll my eyes at her comment about my height, look in the lower drawers and begin to take out all the equipment I deemed essential for baking.
"Becs..." I hear her start, "We don't need a chopping board or a frying pan for cookies. Have you ever done this before?"
I shake my head sheepishly.
She takes my hand and her soft skin is like silk between my fingers. Her fingertips linger on my palms and they seem to become one for a moment. We neglect the equipment we don't need and begin mixing. I hold the spatula whilst she cracks the eggs and, as she pours them in, her arms wrap around mine and I feel her body around me. My spine is next to her torso and I feel my breath hitch. She lays her chin on my shoulder and I can feel her breathing hesitantly too. Is she nervous too? Her bubbly aura and confident personality seems to contradict her sporadic breaths and clenched fists.
I can't help but slow my actions and glance at her, twisting my neck awkwardly.
"Being nervous isn't bad. It just means something important is happening."
I keep repeating that to myself as she guides me, leading my hands around the mixing bowl, folding the dough again and again. Her eyes are sparkling at me and I struggle to concentrate on the mixture. She lets go of my arms suddenly, and I almost let out a gasp at the loss of contact. Her finger points at the bowl and swoops down to grab a small dollop of the mixture. She waves it around my face and it gradually gets closer and closer to my lips. The grey mixture brushes my lips and I lick it lightly off.
"Tastes good?" she asks.
I nod and my tongue instinctively reaches out for more. She lets out a hearty laugh and feeds it all to me; I suck her finger, trying not to be too cliché.
Her finger is in my mouth? How did this happen? It tastes sweet and salty, smooth but slightly grainy, creamy and thick. She smiles with satisfaction and pauses to look at her wet finger. The tip of her tongue grazes it and she looks directly at me whilst doing so. The seductive action makes the blood rush to my cheeks and I feel on fire. How does she make me feel this way? She makes me forget that my walls have been put up for a reason. She frees my soul with her innocent smile, her kooky actions and her cheeky demeanor.
I make a mental note to myself to call my sister after this. I am excited, yet apprehensive.
3:21pm:
We finish the stirring and manage to minimise spillage as we pour fist-sized spoons of dough onto the tray. I sit in front of the oven, watching them rise. Chloe sits down next to me, cross-legged and doe-eyed.
"You're like a little child, Becs." whispers Chloe in my ear. I grin and tap my nails against her tiled floor rhythmically. She looks deep into my eyes and her soft hands come up to my face. I feel her fingertips against my jawline, turning my face sideways so I face her. Words cannot describe how beautiful she looks in that moment; no photography could ever capture it.
She starts leaning in. Shit. What is happening right now? Oh fuck. My brain can't comprehend this leap; the tiles on the floor were spiralling in my head, blurring into an amalgamation of black, white, grey, black, white, grey...
"Becs?"
I shake my head slowly and the blurs start to shape Chloe's face again.
"Becs, you just had some dough on your cheek."
She uses her thumb to wipe it off and flicks it into the empty mixing bowl. My head stops spinning and I smile softly. How stupid was I to think that she was going to kiss me?
Suddenly, the timer sounds with seven shrill beeps. Chloe grabs the oven gloves from the counter and extracts the cookie tray. The rich aroma of butter and chocolate fills the room and we both lick our lips. We bring them to the table and begin snacking.
"Becs, I've been meaning to ask you something." Chloe began.
This didn't sound promising.
"When did you get diagnosed with colour blindness?"
I look down at the grey cookie with some light and dark hues in the grooves.
"I couldn't tell some Rubik's Cube colours apart, and I couldn't distinguish different types of flowers in biology class. It became so bad that I thought I was going insane." I reply. I didn't want to mention art in case she thought I wouldn't know how to appreciate her art.
"It's not something I like sharing with people. Actually, I tend not to share anything with anybody."
"Why is that?"
"I just... have my barriers up high so that nobody gets close and so nobody gets hurt."
Chloe leaned in and put her hand on mine. "Becs, if you ever need someone to talk to, you can always talk to me. It can make you feel better, and you need to look out for yourself above others."
She makes my heart warm inside. What is happening?
