Taming the Tattooed Boy

- Time -

My big brother Elliot returned home, though my mother had already fallen asleep. It took me a couple, maybe 20 minutes to persuade her to rest. Can you blame her? She is rather stubborn. I got my stubbornness from her.

"Where've you been, mister?"

"Grocery shopping? ..And kinda met up with some girls."

I chuckled. He never fails to amuse me. Did I mention of how much I adore his cooking? Personally, my mother can't cook half as good as Elliot. He didn't take classes, I heard he learned from a reliable friend. And the skills that my father had contributed to it too.

He's a pretty interesting brother. Other than cooking, he can do plenty of things with a knife in his hand. He's skilled especially in MMA, Kung Fu, Judo, and all of those fancy schmany words. He learned it the hard way, he was often bullied in school. He wasn't obviously going to let himself come home with bruises all the time. To this day, he carried the same skills. He may seem so tough and all externally, but inside he's a big baby.

He's a flirt. I admit it. He's been on dates, but hasn't admitted himself into a serious relationship. But in all honesty, he seems to be doing fine alone and with just ourselves by his side. He seems to always put so much effort in making us happy, rather than himself.

Y'know, most people would find their big brothers annoying and all. But me? I genuinely love and adore him. He's amazing. And hilarious.

"How come you've never been in a serious one?" I took a seat across from him, as he skillfully sliced some onions, without even the slightest bother of looking.

He shrugged, "Not ready for one."

"You suck."

"Don't tell me that, or no lunch for you." He pointed at me with his knife. I stuck out my tongue. We're always this playful.

I watched, mouth slightly agape, as he ran back and forth in the kitchen, dropping food in pots and pans, picking up salts, condiments and seasonings while dropping them with a flick of his wrist. He could definitely pass as chef, if he didn't appear terrifying. I watched as he rapidly wiped a sweat off his forehead, stirring up two pots at the same time.

I didn't really figure how long I've been staring, but soon enough, the sound of his fingers snapping brought me back to reality. Looking down, I felt my mouth water in need and hunger. I couldn't exactly figure what it was, but it sure looked ravishing. The designs and everything looked so fancy and exquisite, I could never resist digging in as soon as I saw it. And I didn't.

From the corner of my eyes, I caught him giving me a funny look before chuckling amusedly. In all honesty, he's the biggest reason to why I don't have a favorite food. Everything he prepares was delicious, it's rather difficult to pick which one I prefer best.

My mouth released a small burp, as I sat back with a satisfied stomach. He pushed himself off the counter he was leaning on and walked towards me, arms folded.

"So?"

"-3/10," I joked.

I suddenly let out a laugh, his sudden change of expression seemed so hilarious.

"Don't lie to me, you nearly died whenever you missed a spot."

I pouted, and playfully punched his arm. He smiled, unfazed. It was rare for him to smile as well, even when he goes on dates and such. I've only seen him smile whenever he's around us, not anyone else.

My thoughts lingered towards Robbie. Part of me wished he'd die from a car crash, another desired for returned feelings. I was angry, frustrated, but at the same time, upset. Who knew a girl could get so emotional?

Elliot must've noticed my silence and confronted me, "Hey, what's up?"

"Nothing... well something, but it seems kinda silly."

"I'm not surprised about that anymore, c'mon fill me up."

I sighed hesitantly, "There's this boy-"

"Do I have to kill another one today?" He interrupted.

I mentally laughed at his defense. I can always count on him.

"No, no, not yet at least. I really.. y'know.. love him? But, the feeling's mutual."

I heard him sigh, "Same'ere kid."

"Really?"

"Yeah, this girl loved me but I found her annoying."

I punched his arm, still he was unfazed to my disappointment. Damn his strength.

"You're not helping, Elliot," I groaned. My head dropped the table, nearly slamming against my plate but Elliot moved it before I could hit myself.

He clicked his tongue, "Don't be so concerned over one kid. He doesn't deserve any of your feelings if he plots to crush them."

I lifted my head, and stared at him. His gaze was serious, I mean he's serious most of the time, but right now it's as if he really wants me to believe him. I bit my lip and sat up, my gaze falling over to my lap.

"But what if I can't just abandon my feelings for him?"

"One word; time."

He stood up, patting my back, before marching up the stairs holding the lunch reserved for mother.

His answer was simple, but was enough to put an effect on me. I couldn't think straight with Robbie constantly clouding my thoughts. I was unsure how time will heal my open wounds, not to mention that as time passes, they seem to grow deeper.