Aurora

Chapter 22: Starvation

I found it fun to write about Simon and Mr Arnaldi.
😋😋

🌸🌸🌸

~Simon~

When we got to Mr Arnaldi's home he stormed out of the car, I followed a few seconds after. Not wanting to be in his range of anger.
I slowly walk back to the room where he threw me in. With nothing to do I settled to take a nap. He wouldn't be mad right?

I woke up and the sun was already setting. The colours of organge, peach and pink, played in the sky. I always love sunsets, it calms me, no matter what happened that day, just looking at it will calm me.
I stretched myself out and slowly walked out of the room.
I was really hungry. "Mr Arnaldi?" I call in hopes that somewhere in this house he will hear me.
I called two times more before giving up, so I just searched for the kitchen. Which I quickly find. I look around and gulped.
Would he kill me if I make some food?
Guess there was only one way to find out.
It's either me dying of starvation or me being killed because I was trying to save myself from starvation.
So I'd rather have food in my stomach before I die.

So what to cook, what to cook? I ask myself while opening the fridge and some other cubbbards so see if I can make anything.
So with as few ingredients as possible on the table counter I smiled. I would get to eat tonight!

~Luca~

I am so angry that I have to keep an eye on that pathetic boy. I had te keep myself busy to stop myself from strangling Matteo.
I don't know how long I was busy with paperwork and conference calls, but I'm use to it.
A lovely smell enters my nose and I frown in confusion.
I follow the smell to the kitchen where I see this boy stirring something in a pot, humming some tune.
"What are you doing?" My sudden appearance made him jump and his eyes grew wider. He did look a bit paler than usual now.
"S...sir, I tried searching for you, but you didn't answer and I didn't want to roam around." His head immediately looked to the floor as he spoke.
I quirk my eyebrow at him.
"I... I am making food. E...en...enough for you as well." By looking at the pot I was sure there was more than enough.
"Bene, continue.". I take a seat on one of the barstools and I waited for the food.
The poor boy shook while he continued to make the food.
How did he even get into the mafia? He's batshit scared.

~Simon~

I am not dead yet!
My nerves were all over the place, I can literally feel his eyes on the back of my head. I prayed the food would get done faster, but I know that was not possible. Was my nerves even going to last another 15 minutes?

It did and I'm glad that food was finally done. I put out the flame and got the bowl that I thankfully found before he came into the kitchen.
I took two scoops for me and four scoops for him, praising myself that I did not let the bowls fall.
With much steadiness and gentleness as I could muster, I placed the bowl in front of him.
"I made beef stew." I mumble, hoping he'd like it.
There is the possibility he will shoot me if it's bad.
He took a bite, "Com'è possibile che uno schizzo come te può cucinare così bene?" he mumbles. I do wish I could understand Italian.
Nevertheless, I sat at the other end of te bar table inbthe kitchen. Like three barstools away and I began eating.
Mr Arnaldi finished in record time and put his dish in the sink.
"Get yourself some more boy, you're way too skinny." He says and walks out of the kitchen.
Not sure what to do now. Was that his way of being civil with me?
Oh well, seconds here we come!

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Bene
Well

Com'è possibile che uno schizzo come te può cucinare così bene?"
How is it possible that a stick like you can cook so well?"