Part 2: Prepping Food Is Only Better When Your Making It for Hot Guys

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I stepped into the kitchen, still shaking off the feelings from the last 10 minutes. I thought about Sirius' genuine care for me, for everyone in this army. Many called him the "dad" of the group, and understandably so. He was always looking out for others. It was shocking he even had time to look after himself.

By this point I was peeling potatoes for today's lunch and awaiting Luka's appearance in the kitchen. As I peeled I continued to think. Sirius had even made breakfast this morning, much like most mornings around here. And boy it wasn't stingey at all. Buttermilk pancakes with fresh blueberries picked from the garden, a fruit salad topped with sugar, rye toast ready and waiting to be buttered, turkey bacon strips and a choice of either well done or sunnyside up fried eggs. Topped off with maple syrup taken from the forest trees, freshly squeezed orange juice, and milk from our barn behind the castle.

All prepared by one person. For atleast the generals of the army, which was about 8 people.

I continued to peel potatoes as my mind wandered. How does he do it? Was Sirius born with extra limbs that no one knows about that he hides under his coat? Does he just never sleep and take 20 minute power naps multiple times a day and just runs constantly like a battery powered bunny? I was contorting my brain trying to determine how he did it. He was like the ring leader at a circus, literally on top of everything, alwa--OW!

I snapped out of my incessant questioning thoughts to notice a small pool of blood seeping from my finger and onto the cutting board. I had cut open a half an inch gash in the pad of my ring finger on my right hand. Clearly paying attention wasn't my strong suit today.

"No-the potatoes!!!"

Realisation hit me as I started to bleed all over the one I had been peeling. I dropped the knife and darted to the sink. I began running cold water over my finger, trying to cauterize it (somehow), and stop the bleeding. As I did this I heard soft footsteps. Sounded like some of the troops were coming in from training for a break.

Anxiety rose in me. I had to stop this bleeding or I would make a huge mess and I would have to start all over again prepping the food. I also didn't want it to be late as I knew the army had been working hard the last few days.

"Quick Kelly think think." I muttered to myself. I was losing more and more blood, my finger dripping wet with water and red life force, and it was starting to sting. I looked around and found a clean dish rag.

Bingo.

I took it and wrapped it around my finger before I made too much of a mess. As I did my finger started to throb. For such a minor cut, it sure as hell hurt alot. I attempted to use my teeth and left hand to tie a knot in the rag to keep it on my finger. At least this way it would stem the bleeding while I went to find some bandages to wrap it.

I could hear footsteps coming closer from the halls so I took another rag and threw the bloody potatoe into the garbage bin with a long handed basketball throw, turning my torso sideways to take the shot. My head was starting to feel a little weird.

From here I turned my focus back to my finger and as I did, dizziness overtook me. My entire reality felt like it shifted 40 degrees to the right in a circle. I gazed down at my finger and noticed the blood was staining the white rag and beginning to seep through.

My mind started to slow to a crawl as my vision started to blur. All I could think about was how painful the cut on my finger felt. Nausea rose up deep inside my stomach and I felt my vision start to darken around the edges. The distant footsteps grew closer behind me as I stood at the sink, my left hand holding onto the ledge of the counter as I clung to consciousness.

"Kelly? How is lunch prep going?"

My body uncontrollably swayed a few degrees as I began to pass out. I guess I'm not good with the sight of blood.

"Kelly!"
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