(18+) RED (Complete)

Ch. 22: Mice

I must admit that I felt a bit nervous about being alone with Benjamin. Not that I hadn't been that before. It was just different when it was in his own house.

"Wanna watch a movie?" he asked, looking kinda nervous himself. He rubbed his hands on his thighs, but I didn't know if it was because he was cold or sweaty. Mine were cold though, and when he saw me trying to blow hot air at them, he had a sudden change of heart.

"Nevermind. Let's go into the kitchen," he said, and made me follow him.

"Kitchen?"

"Do you like hot chocolate?"

"Uhm... Who doesn't?"

He looked at me and chuckled.

"I forgot that you were a chocoholic."

I pretended to get mad at him, but he was already on his way over to the cupboard to get two mugs. I sat down on a barstool on the kitchen island and watched him move around so smoothly it almost looked like he was floating above the ground.

"You should become a chef," I said, and made him turn his head. He smiled again. It seemed like he was always smiling. I'd never really seen him mad or sad before. Serious, yes, but a smile was always tugging at his lips right after. Not until what happened with Ryan tonight did I see him angry, and I hoped I didn't have to experience that again. Not because he was mad at me, even though he should be for messing up his evening with his friends. No, it was because I was the reason it happened. It almost made me feel that I didn't deserve the way he smiled at me right now.

"And you say that because I made you a cup of hot chocolate? I didn't even whip the cream myself."

He pointed at the box he held, before he filled my mug with a white lid of sweet foam that covered the brown liquid. Then he sat down on the barstool next to me and did the same with his own mug.

"No, everybody can do that," I said.

But he was quick to add:

"Except for my dad."

We giggled and took our first sip. Then we laughed more at the white mustaches we got afterwards.

"I don't know. You just seem so passionate about it. And you do make delicious food."

He stirred his hot chocolate with a spoon.

"Thanks. But I prefer cooking for my family."

Then he looked up and straight into my eyes.

"My own family."

He emphasized 'own' in a way that made me question whether he meant his sister and dad, or a future family with a wife and kids on his own. Anyone would be lucky to have a man like him as the head of the household, that's for sure.

"Yeah, same here," I said after another sip. He studied me while I licked my lips clean, and I felt a bit insecure when his focus still lingered on them after several seconds. Then he blinked and swallowed.

"You cook, too?"

"Yes."

"Hm," he said thoughtfully and tilted his head backwards a bit to study me over the bridge of his nose. "We better buy a huge kitchen, then."

My eyes widened and I let out a startled protest.

"I'm kidding, Mia! I didn't take you here to get into your pants. I'm not like that."

"Oh. That was...blunt," I mumbled with flushed cheeks. And I didn't know if I was blushing for assuming that he was hitting on me, or because a part of me wouldn't really mind. No! I did mind! I was still in love with Michael, and I would probably always be. Yet, the more time I spent with Benjamin, the more time I wanted to spend with him.