The next day
He let out a cough, his voice strained with regret. "Thompson, I'm sorry," Aiden said, his words interrupted by a sniffle.
"I told you, you should've brought your jacket," I responded, a hint of frustration in my voice. "I know, I know, I'm sorry; please forgive me," he pleaded.
"If you weren't such a dumbass and didn't decide to go into the freezing cold without a jacket, this wouldn't have happened." I could hear him sniffle on the other end of the line. We were in the midst of talking about our plans for the day, which had been disrupted by Aiden's dumbass decision to not wear a jacket tomorrow, which made him sick.
"Are you going to be alone?" I asked
"My parents aren't here, yeah."
"Okay, I'll be there," I assured him. Without giving him a chance to ask any questions, I ended the call.
—
As I approached the front door, I raised my hand to knock, but before I could make contact, the door swung open widely, revealing a devastated Aiden. His usually nice hair was dishevelled, as if he had been running his fingers through it for hours. His eyes, usually bright, were now a bit red. His whole body seemed to slump, as if the weight of the world was resting on his shoulders.
As I entered the house, a chuckle escaped my lips at the sight of Aiden's dishevelled appearance. "Is that how you look when you're sick?" I couldn't help but tease, taking in the scene around me.
Aiden's voice, tinged with exhaustion and irritation, snapped me back to reality. "Don't make fun of me, Thompson," he replied.
Quickly realizing my mistake, I reassured him, "No, no, I didn't mean it that way. I'm sorry, Aiden." Placing my bags on the kitchen counter, I began taking out the ingredients.
Curiosity got the better of him, and he peered over my shoulder, asking, "What are you doing?"
I shifted slightly, not wanting him to invade my personal space. "I'm making food. You mentioned that you haven't eaten all day, right? Let me make something up for you." I pulled out an apron, ready to get started.
Aiden's surprise was evident in his voice as he exclaimed, "Why am I only finding out now that you can cook, sweetheart?"
With a shrug, I replied, "I only know the basics, but I'll give it my best shot. Cooking can be fun, you know."
And so, with an apron on and determination in my eyes, I set out to prepare a meal for him. The kitchen became a hub of activity as I chopped, stirred, and seasoned, hoping to create something delicious for Aiden's body.
20 minutes later
"What on earth is that?" he asked, his eyes fixed on the "food" sizzling away on the stove. I let out a sigh and shook my head in disappointment.
"Honestly, I have no clue," I replied, my voice tinged with a mix of confusion.
The sight on the stove was a total bummer. We were faced with a mishmash of random ingredients, all thrown together without any rhyme or reason. There were these blobs of tofu swimming in a green sauce and a tangled mess of overcooked spaghetti noodles that clung together like they were glued. And to add insult to injury, there were these burnt onions scattered all over, giving off a nasty, charred smell.
Aiden's laughter filled the room, and I couldn't help but join in, my chuckles blending with his. But as his laughter continued, a frown crept onto my face.
"If you keep laughing like that, that hyena laugh or yours, I swear I'm out of here," I grumbled, crossing my arms defiantly.
His laughter gradually stopped, and then he surprised me by wrapping his arms around me from behind. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. Please don't leave," he pleaded, his voice filled with sadness, but I could tell he was trying to suppress a laugh.
I shifted slightly, not wanting to catch his cold, but the warmth of his embrace was too enticing to resist. We stood there, wrapped in each other's arms.
"Okay, that's enough," I remarked, pinching his hands as he started planting light kisses along my neck. "I'm not trying to get sick again," I added, dropping a hint about when I got sick not long ago.
Aiden looked at me with a grin and said, "It would be good if you did get sick again, so I can take care of you once more."
"No thanks; anyway, what do we do with this mess?" I groaned looking at the thing I just created; something must have gone wrong while I was cooking. Yes, I always knew my skills weren't the best, but I never knew it was this bad.
"Don't worry," Aiden whispered, his hands reaching for the utensils on the stove. "I'll make something."
"No, you're sick. I can't let a sick person cook," I protested, concern etching my face.
He gestured for me to sit on the chair, his touch gentle as he guided me onto it. "I'm feeling better now, thanks to your presence, and you've already done more than enough; just sit back and relax, okay?"
I reluctantly nodded, but honestly, I was more worried about myself than him. I mean, he's the one who's sick, and I couldn't help but think, What if he accidentally contaminates the food?
But I trusted him and plopped down in the chair. It was in times like these that I loved how caring he was, making me feel all warm and cozy even when things were not the best.
As Aiden stood in the kitchen, a relaxed air surrounded him. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing his forearms, and a smile played on his lips. The aroma of herbs and spices filled the air as he chopped vegetables on the cutting board, his movements precise and effortless.
With every sizzle and sputter, the ingredients danced in the pan, the smell contaminating the kitchen. Aiden moved with grace, effortlessly flipping the food with a flick of his wrist.
I couldn't help but admire the way he seemed completely at home in the kitchen. Of course, he knew how to cook like this.
"Why is it now that I find out that you can cook?"
Aiden chuckled and shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. "I don't tell people this," he confessed. I rolled my eyes. What does he tell people, then?
He then approached me with a spoon in hand, filled with steaming soup. The aroma alone made my mouth water. "Try this," he said, his voice filled with anticipation.
I eagerly took a spoonful of the soup, savouring the flavours on my taste buds. It was a perfect blend of spices. The warmth of the soup enveloped me, satisfying me with every sip.
"Perfect!" I exclaimed, unable to contain my satisfaction. Aiden, with a glint in his eyes, couldn't resist the temptation and planted a quick peck on my lips before swiftly retreating back to the stove.
"Aiden!" I exclaimed. With a frown, was it his mission to make me sick today? He turned around, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "Sorry, I couldn't resist," he confessed.
I sighed, a playful smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "Wow, Miller, you really know how to push my buttons," I replied. Then I grabbed a paper towel and wiped my lips, making sure to give him a look.
Aiden winced, his eyes widening as he stared at me. "wow, really."
"I don't want to get sick; I already told you this." Changing the subject, I looked at him. "Anyway, is there anything I can help with?" I asked, feeling a bit useless just sitting here while he's sick and doing the cooking.
"You can sit there and look pretty for your boyfriend."
"Aiden."
Quickly realizing his slip-up, Aiden apologized, his tone shifting to a serious one. "Sorry, miss. You can, um, grab the juice inside the fridge," he quickly corrected himself.
Taking his suggestion, I made my way to the fridge and retrieved the juice. "Alright, got it. Now what?"
"Put it in a cup."
Following his instructions, I poured the juice into a cup, ready to bring it over to him. "Okay, it's in the cup. What now?" I asked, waiting for his next direction.
Aiden gestured for me to come closer. "Come here,"
I hesitated for a moment, not sure of what he was planning. But curiosity got the better of me, and I cautiously approached him. He then surprised me by opening his mouth, silently asking me to give him the cup.
"You're serious?" I asked, a mix of disbelief in my voice.
Aiden nodded, a grin spreading across his face. "What did you think it was for?" he replied, his tone filled with lightheartedness. "Look, I'm sick, and the least you can do is help me stay hydrated, right?"
I couldn't argue with his logic, and with a chuckle, I brought the cup of juice to his waiting lips. As he took a sip, I couldn't help but feel useful right now.
—
Soon enough, the food was done. And we started eating—well, I did. Aiden was currently weeping on his chair. I put down my spoon and looked at him. "What's wrong?"
He winced, his hand clutching his stomach. "It hurts to eat," he admitted, his voice strained. "I need help."
I could tell he was struggling, but a part of me suspected that he was using this as an opportunity to get me to feed him. Normally, I would scold him and tell him to tough it out, but seeing him in 'genuine' discomfort, I knew I had to be there for him. Even though he was probably lying
Without hesitation, I got up from my seat and sat beside him, placing a hand on his back. I picked up his spoon. "Let me help,"
As I held the spoon, I carefully scooped up a spoonful of the warm soup, making sure it was just the right temperature for him. I brought the spoon to his lips, my gaze locked with his.
He opened his mouth, and I gently fed him the spoonful of soup. I watched as his face softened, the pain momentarily forgotten as the flavours of the soup danced on his taste buds.
We continued this ritual. As I fed him, I couldn't help but notice the vulnerability in his eyes. It was obvious that he wasn't feeling well, plus, with all he was stressing about, he was trying to put up a brave face around me. He always does that.
Between spoonfuls, we exchanged smiles and shared glances, a silent understanding passing between us. Despite the discomfort he was experiencing, there was a sense of closeness that enveloped us.
As we continued, I could see a sense of relief wash over Aiden's face. The pain seemed to calm down, replaced by a sense of gratitude and appreciation. We finished the soup together, with the last spoonful marking the end of this moment.
I gently set down the spoon, my hand coming to rest on top of Aiden's. "Feeling better?"
He nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Thanks for helping me," he whispered. "But you know what else could make me feel even better?" He suddenly asked, a glint in his eyes.
I rolled my eyes, knowing Aiden's tendency. "What now?" I asked, pretending to be exasperated.
He leaned in closer. "A kiss," he said, his hands gesturing to his lips. I tilted my head. "Aiden, you know I don't want to get sick."
He sighed, disappointment evident on his face as he looked away. I couldn't resist his puppy-dog eyes, and with a groan, I gave in. I placed my hands on his cheeks, turned his face towards me, and planted a quick kiss on his cheek.
Aiden's face lit up with a smile as he turned back to face me. "That's better."
I couldn't help but laugh. "You're lucky; I can't resist you."
"I know."
—
For the rest of the day, we stayed in each other's comfort zone. We spent the rest of the evening talking, sharing stories, and just being present with each other. It was in these simple moments that our bond grew stronger, deepening our relationship.
Aiden told me how he and his dad are talking bit by bit and shared more about his brother's death and how he's coming to terms with it. All I could do was listen to him as he confessed his feelings and just be there for him.
As the night came to an end, I looked at Aiden with a soft smile. "Thank you for tonight," I said, my voice filled with genuine gratitude. "Even though you're not feeling well, you still managed to make me smile."
Aiden returned my smile, his eyes filled with affection. "It's all worth it if I can see you happy," he replied, his voice filled with sincerity.
"I felt like I should be saying that."
He smiled and gave me a hug. "I love you."
I can't believe it. Who would have thought that I'd end up here, spending the evening with Aiden, wrapped in each other's hands? I can't believe how far we've come. From constantly trying to outdo each other to this moment, where we're so close and connected,.
Our relationship grew when we began to recognize each other's strengths and weaknesses, and we learned how to uplift and encourage one another. This new perspective allowed us to grow together and build a bond that would stand the test of time.
Tonight, as we sit together in the quiet serenity of his house, the moment feels like the perfect time. Just the two of us—no one else to worry about. Just me and Miller.
—
Wordcount: 2323
one more chapter guys...:(