Ivanov

•*Chapter 3*•

"Love is a thing that is full of cares and fears."
-Ovid
************************************************

I R I S

When we got into the kitchen, Dean told me to take a seat by the island and watch him cook. His exact words were;

"Don't you wanna watch the love of your life prepare a meal for you?"

I just rolled my eyes and sat while he smirked. He grabbed some pots and pans and started taking out ingredients from the fridge. He had onions, tomatoes, peppers, a container of something and other spices.

I sat with my chin on my palm observing him. He was washing the peppers when I heard water splash.

"Shit." He muttered. I realized he sprayed a good amount of water on his shirt. I giggled quietly, or so I thought, because now Dean looked at me and furrowed his eyebrows.

"Oh you think this is funny?" He asked being very serious. I quickly shook my head no, before bursting out into laughter. Through my tears I saw Dean shaking his head at me, before taking his shirt off. Which effectively made me stop laughing abruptly.

Which made me choke on my spit.

I started coughing loudly, patting my chest attempting to catch my breath. It was Dean's turn to laugh until tears were rolling down his cheeks. I was still a mess and my throat was burning from the harsh coughing. Dean wiped his eyes with a smile and came over to me before rubbing my back.

"You're okay." He said softly. I cleared my throat once more before my fit ended. I looked up at Dean to see him already looking at me. We stared at each other for awhile before I giggled again, which ended up in another laughing session.

When we sobered up, he went back to cook, without a shirt might I add. And it was the hottest thing I've ever seen in my nineteen years of living. The way his muscles flexed when he reached for something, or when he ran his hand through his dark curls out of concentration. He moved around the kitchen like it was second nature, and about 20 minutes later he told me he was done.

"Bone apple teeth." He said placing the plates on the island before sitting beside me. I laughed at his choice of words before I switched my focus to the meal in front of me. It looked heavenly and smelled even better. It was chicken pasta with what I'm guessing is a homemade dressing. The presentation was exquisite and I could tell he put a lot of thought into it.

"I present to you my mother's famous pasta and her secret sauce." He said. "I added the chicken since I had some already prepared in the fridge, and I didn't want it to go to waste."

I remember Alejandro telling me that Dean lost his mother at a very early age, so maybe she had like a recipe book or something.

I nodded and dug in. As the pasta hit my tongue I moaned in content. My eyes rolled to the back of my head as I savored the flavor of the sauce. I looked to Dean.

"This is soooo good Dean!" I said contently. But Dean was just looking at me with a clenched jaw and dark eyes. He bit his lip slightly before turning to his food.

"It is isn't it?"

Then he started eating.

The way he looked at me had me scolding myself, because now all I feel are tingles and butterflies everywhere. I didn't realize I was still staring at him until he looked back at me and our eyes connected.