The Bad Boys Angel

I'm Rather Thrilled About Tomorrow Night As Well

"Are you sure I'm doing this right?" I waver, turning my head over my shoulder to face Zanthus who was watching my distressed state.

I slowly bring my hands holding the whisk I've been raining down on the butter to a stop as I study his expression. He has a tight-lipped smile on his face, though it doesn't seem to be one of force but rather as if he is trying to force himself not to laugh. He finally breaks out into laughter not able to hold his apparent facade, the sound reigning through my ears like the sweetest symphony.

His eyes are almost to a close, crinkled up by the sides in the most admirable way. I watch how his body shakes in tune with his laughs, and have to force myself not to cheese like a fool at his contagious state. Slowly he begins to sober up from his fit, but his smile stays planted wide as ever as he just looks at me.

"You're taking the mickey, aren't you?" I remark with a teasing glare, which just causes him to force back his amusement yet again.

Zanthus shakes his head, but his body betrays his lie. I'm aware that I'm quickly failing to keep the pointed look on my face, I can't help it with the sight of Zanthus right now. His body language now is in such stark contrast to him just over an hour ago, and I truly hope my attempt to learn how to bake has been a fit distraction from whatever was going on inside his head.

"Well if you're so blinding at baking, why don't you come and show me yeah?" I raise my eyebrows a bit, hoping he does actually come over here because for someone gross reason I want to have his body closer to mine rather to across the counter.

His smile is a bit lighter now, more of one that shows the remains of a once large grin. I watch nervously as he seems to ponder my proposition, hoping he'll submit to my request. I feel a bit of relief as he sends me a small nod, slowly starting to walk around the counter. My pounding heart becomes notedly apparent the closer he gets to me, and now I don't know whether or not to be chuffed or lose my mind at the closing gap between Zanthus and me.

I barely even know him, why does he make me feel so flustered?

Zanthus stops on my right side, close enough to where our arms are touching in the lightest manner. My skin crawls as he lightly shuffles on his feet causing his arm to fully brush my own, and I scold myself to stop overreacting at the smallest things while I'm when it comes to him. I bring my eyes to align with his and realize that the smile on his lips is just ghosting a smile now, barely noticeable if you were to be across the room.

He cocks his head a bit, yet I haven't a clue what he's trying to gesture in doing so. He appears to realize my bewilderment so he points to my hand which I look to recall is gripping the side of the glass bowl. I immediately release the item, and he reaches out to grab it before turning to his side and stretching out to place it in the microwave. The time is set for twenty seconds, which go by like hours as I observe the apparent muscle strained against his black shirt as he keeps his hand supported against the front of the microwave.

Good lord, he's fit.

A light hum strings through the air, interrupted by a quiet ding indicating the time is up. I snap out of my trance as he opens up the small door to retrieve the now warmed bowl. He closes the microwave and places the bowl back down in front of me, grabbing the whisk covered in remnants of horribly mashed butter and the rest of the ingredients I'd sloshed in the bowl in following of the printed instructions he had handed me, him being the one to fetch them all for me.