Witness Protection ✔

Friction

"Katherine!" a voice boomed from downstairs.

After Darius left Nathalia had decided to stay in her room for the time being. It wasn't that she was avoiding Chris, she'd just decided to procrastinate getting to know him for a little bit. And despite Chris being there, the house felt oddly empty without Darius.

"Yeah?" she yelled back down, pausing her tv show.

"Come here." Chris's voice boomed again.

The fact he didn't even ask her, or that he didn't come upstairs himself irked her. Pushing the irritation down, she reminded herself she didn't know the man and that she should be patient. So she went downstairs as he told her to.

Before she could ask him what he needed her to come down for he'd already chucked a file at her. Her sharp reflexes weren't something she was known for and the file bounced off her arm and fell down, causing her to glare at him.

"Geez, thanks for the warning," she said sarcastically.

But Chris seemed unbothered and rolled his eyes. "Just read it," was all he said as he walked off.

Picking up the file from the floor she scanned the contents. Lucky for her, it was just a few pages detailing Chris's cover story and not some long document.

He was supposed to be her uncle Chris from her mom's side in California. He was staying with her this week as he had a job interview at a company nearby. Darius had supposedly gone on a business trip that week and would return at the end of it.

It was all simple enough, and she didn't think any of it would pose a problem. Putting the files down again she looked around for something to do. Since she was already in the kitchen and dinnertime was fast approaching she decided to start cooking.

Opening the fridge she scanned the contents before grabbing the ingredients for spaghetti and closing the door again. Putting everything on the counter she started chopping up the ingredients in peace. Until Chris walked into the kitchen and stood next to her, too close for her liking.

"What's for dinner?" he asked as he looked at the ingredients in front of them. One of those ingredients was a box that said 'spaghetti' on the front, telling her his deduction skills were not as on point as Darius's were.

"I'm making spaghetti with meatballs, I hope that's okay?"

He seemed to mull it over for a bit, not realizing it was a rhetorical question and she was going to make it regardless of his answer.

"It'll have to do for now, but I prefer a steak with mashed potatoes," he said as he turned around and took a seat at the table, not even bothering to help her with setting it.

Ignoring him, she continued her cooking. Unfortunately for her, though, Chris wasn't the silent type. He continued to talk about how steak was the only 'true' American dinner and everything else was inferior. About how his uncle's steak was unmatched. About how a real steak was cooked by a real man using a barbecue. All the while Nathalia didn't even have to talk. He seemed to be having a conversation with himself.

Handing Chris his plate she went to grab some for herself before sitting down. As soon as she took a bite all the negativity of the day disappeared. Spaghetti was her all-time favorite food and never failed to lift her spirits.

"It's a bit bland."

Snapping her head up she met Chris's stare from across the table.

Bland? My spaghetti?

I'll tell you what's bland: your face.

"I'm sorry my cooking is not up to your standards." Her voice was calm and composed, yet inside she was seething. She'd worked at a hotel for years and met many a rude customer, but Chris took the cake. And she didn't even work for him.