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Yawning, I trod towards the kitchen, still not fully awake. I stretched my torso to loosen the tight knots on my back. The satisfying sound of joints crackling was music to my ears.
Got to love lazy mornings.
Being a not-so-morning person, It wasn't every day that I woke up on my own, without an alarm. This was a big achievement for me.
But then, The commotion in the kitchen and the loud noise of utensils falling made me flinch. I stepped inside the kitchen with precaution, not knowing what sacrificial ritual was happening there to cause such noises.
The rotten smell of burnt food and the chilly fragrance of Maggi Masala spice in the air made my nostrils itch. I rubbed my nose to ease it but that only made me sneeze. Loudly. And Continuously.
A harsh curse came from the man at task, as he burnt his hand trying to grab the cooking pot with bare fingers. "Fuck this shit!"
"What in the devil are you trying to do!"
Turning to look at me, he put the burnt finger in his mouth, to alleviate the pain. I would have found that gesture ovary-tingling in a situation otherwise. Only if I wasn't struggling to keep my eyes open from the after-effects of the sneezing fit.
"I was trying to make us breakfast in celebration of you signing the social media deal with my company," He explained sheepishly. His eyes were puppy-like soft, begging to be forgiven.
I glared at him.
Momo raced around in circles at his feet, all jumpy and joyful.
"You were trying to make us a celebratory breakfast...at six in the morning? And then you burnt the most basic packeted food in the world. And now the whole kitchen smells of Maggi Masala."
He scratched the back of his head, ruffling his unkempt morning hair.
"Something like that."
"Aryan, it's humanly impossible to burn Maggi! You just need to boil it in water and put the pre-made spices. How-" I rubbed my forehead, trying to comprehend the mess, "How can you-" I shook my head, unable to put my anguish in words.
I moved toward the kitchen counter, to inspect the damage.
"Why do you do things which are so out of your realm?"
"I read the instruction behind the packet. It seemed easy enough. I think they are misguiding. It wasn't my fault! I followed them word for word. I swear."
Taking a peek at the charred bottom of the pot, I put my hands on my waist, staring right at him as he shuffled from one foot to the other, looking like a child who hadn't completed his homework.
"So you are telling me that you kept it in boiling water for just two minutes and not more than that?"
A guilty expression crossed his face. His shoulders slumped. "I might have gone up to the gym for my workout, keeping it on flame for maybe... a slightly longer time."
I knew it.
"And how long is the slightly longer time?"
He flinched, visibly. "Maybe like forty minutes."
I pursed my lips. "That's a perfectly normal behavior. Completely understandable." I couldn't keep the sarcasm off my voice.
Dumping the dead black strands of noodles in the trash, I actually felt my heart break into half for wasting food.
"If you so wanted to celebrate, why didn't you order something from outside?"
A heavy sigh, followed the confession, "The delivery doesn't work till eight. And I wanted to make it myself because you are always the one who always makes food. I wanted to do something nice as well, as a gesture of thanks."
I nodded, my anger melting like butter on a hot pan at his genuine words. And then that innocent look of his accompanied by the hotness of his shirtless torso also did help a little in forgiving him.
I am in deep shit, I am telling you.
Steeling myself, not allowing my silly crush to ruin my fiery image, I said, "Let's establish something. Whenever you want to do something nice," I looked at him, to see if he was listening to me or not, "You won't do any activity that concerns cooking, chopping, or that has anything to do with making food. Even fireless cooking isn't allowed. Do anything else, if you want to show a nice gesture, okay? But not cooking. Never come near the gas stove."
His gaze dropped as he sulked toward the kitchen stools. I called, "Do you want to do a nice gesture right now?"
He glimpsed at me with a dejected look. "What?"
"Wash the dishes and clean the mess you made. It would be a nice enough gesture."
"I was going to do that anyway. Let me just sit for a few seconds so that I can soak up the agony of this insult I have faced today." He noisily took a seat, all while pouting childishly.
Such a Drama King.
"Why are you spoiling your mood, huh? I didn't even say anything harsh to you till now."
"I don't know..." He whined, "My whole plan is ruined. I just wanted to do something to make you happy. And then all of it backfired. This feels like a defeat."
I chuckled at his drama. "Come on now. You have just burnt some food. Nothing too big about it. It's not like you lost a war or something."
He scowled at me.
"Why do you men take everything to your ego?"
He snapped his head away from me like a kid throwing a tantrum. "You won't understand."
"Are you...on your man-period or something?"
I concealed a smile when a gasp left his mouth.
"It's not funny."
"How about I teach you how to make perfect Maggi? And then when you want to show a nice gesture in the future, you can make it by yourself. That way your fragile ego won't be hurt," I offered.
"But you only said that I am not allowed to come near the gas stove. What about that condition?"
"We can make it an exception. If you learn how to make noodles this time then well and good. But if you can't do it, then we will invoke that condition again."
He bobbed his head in approval. "Fine."
"First things first, Clean that saucepan. After that, we can get started."
Within a minute, Aryan had washed the utensil. It looked completely new.
One thing about this man that I have learned after living with him for three weeks is- He can't cook to save his life but does the dishes meticulously. With precise perfection.
I placed two saucepans in the different stoves and opened two Maggi packets. Filling my side of the pot with water, I demonstrated, picking the noodles and dropping them along with the Masala as Aryan did the same on his side. I pointed my finger toward the clock on the wall. "Now, you keep a hawk-eye on the pot for eight minutes. And then taste test."
He raised his eyebrow, challenging me, "But on the packet, two minutes is written."
"I am the expert here. They don't know nothing. So you will listen to me," I demanded.
He asked, suspiciously, "You are saying that the producer of the product is wrong and you are right? That's rather a big claim to make."
"If you want to eat raw Maggi, then sure, cook yours for two minutes. We will see then," I reverted calmly.
He exhaled in defeat, crossing his arms in front of that expansive chest.
Brewing my morning Chai, I rubbed the bridge of my eyes. "It's too early for so much drama."
"Sorry for disturbing you," He apologized sadly.
Seeing him so unhappy made my gut clench.
When Maggi was ready, I instructed, "Now, you never touch the hot utensil with your hands." Dangling the kitchen cloth in front of him, I said, "See, this. It's made for a purpose. You pick up the pot with this." I wrapped the spoon around the noodle and brought the hot strand to my mouth. Regretting putting it directly into my mouth without letting it cool, I fanned my mouth furiously, opening and closing it like a fish.
With my tongue tingling from the burning taste, I motioned for him to try the noodles. He bent toward me to take the spoon from my hand.
I inhaled sharply, as the feel of him closer to me crowded my body, and the woodsy scent of him mixed with a hint of sweat teased my senses relentlessly.
My feet refused to step back. I clinched to the back of the counter, my hands gripping it on either side.
Momo spun in the gap between us and because Aryan was so busy examining my face, his eyes tracing every inch of it at a painfully slow pace, he tripped.
Falling straight onto me.
Before he could crush me with his weight, he clutched the counter beside me, trapping me between him and the stovetop.
My mind stopped functioning, at the unexpected proximity.
Could he hear how fast my heart was giving up control?
His hands inched magnetically toward mine and time stood still in that intimate space. Without a hitch, our bodies were nearer to each other, almost fitting perfectly like pieces of a puzzle.
His jaw clenched as his eyes fluttered close, an undeniable war racing in his mind. With a gentle yet deliberate movement, his lashes blinked open as he brushed a stray curl of hair away from my face, allowing his fingers to linger, caressing my cheek.
"You have a little something here," His voice was rough as his touch rubbed just below my bottom lip, wiping away the noodle soup.
My breath caught in my throat, my heart racing, as I leaned into his touch. We were drawn together as if by an invisible force, bringing us closer until we were only inches apart. Our lips, mere heartbeats away, created an irresistible push and pull.
It was a dangerous territory. I knew that I was baring myself by being vulnerable under that copper-like gaze of his which was flaring between my eyes and my mouth.
His hand cupped my cheek, a subtle touch nuzzling beneath my ear as he tipped his head forward when his eyes shut.
My brain was a mushy bowl of cereal, refusing to provide even a single rational thought.
Ohmigodohmigodohmigod.
A thousand thoughts dashed through my mind.
Why am I not stopping this?
Why did I have to cave into the charms of this man?
I am so going to regret this.
But it couldn't hurt to try.
Maybe I deserve to experience my first kiss before I die. We will think about the consequences later.
Would it work with my glasses on or should I remove them?
What if it's bad?
Even if it's horrible, I would still cherish it as a memory for my whole doomed life.
I need to stop my obsession with reading Romance novels.
Gulping, just as I was ready to press my lips against his, a phone blared, forcing us apart.
Aryan scrambled away from me hastily, evading me of his warmth.
The haze that clouded my senses earlier seemed to clear eventually.
The realization of what I was just about to do hit me like a brick. Was I seriously just going to kiss my fake husband? What the hell was I thinking?!
You weren't thinking at all-my brain retorted.
Aryan went far far away, to the balcony to take the call. I checked the temperature of my cheeks with the back of my palm.
Yup, still hot. Flaming Cheetos hot.
Disadvantages of having light pale skin: Reason no. 102, Blushing red skin visible from even a hundred meters far.
My heart felt like it was about to jump out of my body, slashing the rib cage. And the tingles in my stomach weren't because of the morning hunger. Moreover, my nipples poking the thin cotton t-shirt felt like bullets ready to be fired.
Was going braless today in this house the worst decision in my life? Probably yes.
Momo rubbing against my foot broke my array of useless thoughts. The relationship between us in the last few days has been...complicated. I was still getting used to the idea of having him around. But that didn't mean I would become all buddy-buddy with him.
Nonetheless, he never left a chance to demand attention from me. Whether it was asking for belly rubs, or asking me to pick him up and hug him or feed him treats.
At least, I wasn't afraid of him anymore. That had to count for something.
Sighing, I opened the cabinet to pick out his cat food. A stir ensued when Aryan came inside the kitchen, His eyes shooting lasers at my back.
Avoiding his eyes, I went ahead to put the eats in the cat bowl.
Bending, I put some into the bowl and then looked at Momo. He looked disappointed. So I put some more and let him gurgle the food at supersonic speed. Greedy feral. But cute. Just a little, tiny bit cute.
Aryan served the Maggi and my Chai and came to sit beside me. "So...about what happened earlier-"
I interrupted him, way too fast, closing my eyes in mortification, saying hurriedly, "It was a mistake. Let's just forget about it."
He raised his eyebrows as if saying- Really?
Shrugging, he twirled his fork around Maggi, "If that's how you want to go about it. Let's talk about something else then."
He pointed toward Momo's food bowl. "I observed something there while you were leaning to serve him."
"Hmm?" I just wished that he would stop talking but the next sentence that left his mouth had me choking on my noodles.
He said with his gaze trained on the base of my lower back, "Tell me more about that secret tattoo of yours."
Oh god.
***
THE TENSION!!🥵🥵
Also, your author will finally be 21 tomorrow!!!🥳And I wanted to give a Birthday special update tomorrow, but couldn't wait, lol.
Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter🤭
Target: 95 VOTES🌟
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