If He Was Your Fan (A Henry Cavill Fanfic)

Chapter 21: Face Off

You were happy to go home with Henry, but your home? It was a shoebox. You are quiet all the way home in the car. He parks his car next to the garage and follows you up the steps to your small apartment.

"Cozy," He gives an impressed nod.

"Okay," you chuckle, looking around and shaking your head.

"No, no," He puts his arms around your waist, kissing your shoulder as Kal sniffs the place over. He sits on the mat by the kitchen. "I think it's charming, but...." You feel him shrug behind you.

"What?"

"That bed needs testing."

"Oh," you giggle. "didn't think of that."

"But first—" he turns and walks away.

He can't go far, and you frown. "What?"

"Want to see your fridge."

You inwardly cringe, remembering the conversation you had earlier, and remind him. "I'm only here in the morning and evenings on weeknights."

He goes to the refrigerator and exhales heavily. "Let's see..." he clucks his tongue. "Hmmm, well at least you grilled chicken strips."

"Yeah." You say, forgetting about that.

"Romaine, spinach, radish, kale...tomato, carrot, cucumbers, egss—"

"I have fruit—"

"I see," he says frowning and opening the cupboard. "Cereal, cookies—"

"From the bakery," you interject. "Bread, too." He returns to you and you smile. "Not bad."

"Not iron rich, either."

You exhale. "Some of it."

"Not enough." He pauses. "You must have salads every night."

"Just about," you admit. "I can make us some."

"Thanks," he smiles.

You are cutting up ingredients and then you hear him bounce on the bed. "Oh—"

"Oh, a bed desk," Henry smiles, pulling it onto his lap as he sat on the bed. "Where the magic happens?"

"Magic?"

"The stories?"

You laugh softly. "Yes, I suppose so—"

"Good Lord!" He reaches back.

"I would call that the top hat if the stories are magic."

He picks up a handful of SD cards, looking at them. "They're color coded."

"It's easier."

He picks up the case the cards go into. "I can put them back, if you like."

"Sure."