A Hunter's Curse (A Supernatural Fanfiction)

chapter 9

            “Mmmm.” I breathe in as I walk into the room after the shower and putting on the change of clothes. “What are you making?”

            “Breakfast.”

            “No really, I thought we were eating dinner.” I roll my eyes at him as he looks up.

            “Would you like to eat dinner with me?” He adds after he puts whatever he was chopping in the pan.

            “Are you, Troy Rivera, asking me to dinner?” I ask humorously.

            “Depends.”

            “On what?”

            “It just depends.” He gets out as he turns his back to me.

            “Hmmm.”

            “So, what do you say?” Pivoting back around, he leans over the counter.

            “I don’t know. Maybe.” I say as I wink with the answer I give him.

            He smiles and removes the thing he had in the pan, which I soon find out to be an omelet.  He brings two plates over to the high counter where I am sitting. Setting down a plate in front of me, he places his on the lower counter in front of me. I take a bite and instantly let out a soft moan. The egg is mixed with flavor from whatever he put in; the almost melted cheese settles on your tongue in a way the melted chocolate on homemade chocolate cookies do. And whatever he put in the omelet bursts with exotic flavor every breath you take. When I open my eyes again, Troy is already halfway done and smirking at me.

            “What did you put in here?” I ask him as I quickly take a second bite and then a third.

            “You know. A little of this and a little of that.” He answers as he puts his plate in the sink.

            I roll my eyes at his answer but smile regardless. “It’s good.”

            “I know. My grandmother taught me.” A tint of sadness laces his voice as he returns to his original position leaning over the counter.

            “Oh, I’m sorry.”

            He lets out a small laugh, “It’s okay, but I guess seven years spent with her really paid off.”

            “You spent seven years with your grandma?”

            “Yeah. My parents came to the U.S., but I wasn’t quite ready to leave yet, so I stayed behind with my nana instead.”

            I found it cute that he still called his grandma ‘nana.’ But what did he mean ‘when his parents moved to America?’ I decided to ask him because what can I say? Curiosity did kill the cat.

            “What do you mean your parents came to the US?”

            “Finish your omelet and I’ll tell you everything.”

            I probably gorged the rest of my egg in a very non-ladylike fashion as Troy watched with amusement. I scowled at him when I stood up to drop my plate in the sink. He stopped me before I got there and took the plate from me. I’m suffering from a hangover, not a broken arm.

            We make ourselves to the main bedroom, which is the one I woke up in. I plot down on the bed, but Troy remains to lean against the wall. He waits as I try and sit in a comfortable pose before he starts.