Rapping, the door is being rattled as angry voices resounded from the other door.
Opening the door, I came face to face with another version of Mr. Harrison.
Shoting up from the bed with a startled yelp, my forehead is coated with a thick layer of sweat. OK...what just happened?
Looking out the glass wall, the sun is starting to rise. Why am I waking up early lately?
Shrugging, I drag myself out of the bed and paddled down the stairs, not minding if I'm in an oversized T-shirt and pajamas.
It is still pretty dark with only a few hallway lights on. It took me a few minutes to walk to the kitchen considering the fact that my room is now further. Zach's hurt expression flashed my mind but I immediately shake it off.
Rubbing my eyes with a yawn, I heard someone curse in the kitchen and I frowned. Zach couldn't be up this early, right?
Wellp! Proves I'm wrong since here he is, cursing every time the cooking oil hit him. Is it even possible that he's trying to cook or I'm just seeing things? Rubbing my eyes once more...nope! It's real all right.
Groaning in frustration, he turned the stove off as he leaned himself on the counter. "Fucking eggs! Why can't you just cooperate?!" He grumbled as he threw the egg shells in the trash. He grabbed those failed eggs but I stopped him before he could actually do that.
"You're not throwing that away, right?" He looked at me shocked before nodding his head.
Taking the eggs from him, it didn't look that bad for a beginner. The yolk is battered and the whites are not really round. But from the looks of it, he got the taste.
"Don't judge the book by its cover" I mumbled as I took a fork and take a slice of it. As guessed, he got the taste.
He looked at me, waiting for more words to come out of my mouth, but the thing is; I've got nothing more to say to him.
Taking some eggs from the fridge, I turned the stove on and started cooking. Zach watched closely and thoroughly like any other dominant. Eyes as sharp as a hawk's traces my every movement, the perfect angle, the timing, the temperature.
After the third egg, I let him take the reign as he cracks the eggs. The first one is still the same as the old one's. But the second became better, and the third one became perfect. His happiness is radiating off of him as he enjoys cooking even though it is just basic. He looked at me expectantly but when he saw that I'm just stoic as before, his face fell.
Going to one of the stools to sit down, he placed the eggs in front of me before he goes to take the bread. He also poured us each a cup of fresh milk, which his are cold while mines are lukewarm.
Looking at the food in front of me, I hesitantly take a bite. While chewing, I felt bile rise in my throat but luckily, Zach is immediately beside me; rubbing my back and encouraging me to keep it down.