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‟ stray and infinitely, no end and no beginning shed all your skin, and don it victories... stray and let it sin „
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There were many things Shirin could enjoy in this world, except for bitter endings. Those were the worst of all, building up the suspense, edging on the audience with each scene of a movie or chapter of a book until you reach the last paragraph and the words just hit home. It didn't matter whether you connected with the characters, the cessation forced you to delve deeper inside your thoughts and that alone for the brunette was torture.
With a disappointed scoff she closed her book and left it on the dining table and walked back inside the kitchen. She sighed stirring the hot sauce boiling in the pan, absentmindedly humming a tune to herself. She tried to focus on the good part of cooking, tonight was supposed to be a special night and the haunting memories shouldn't be allowed to ruin it.
She had a passion for many things—that a certain ex-marine beaut found it adorably inspiring and respectful—and thus often enjoyed doing different things for both herself and her family—which only consisted of two people now—and for that she rarely eschewed from anything, and exactly because of that reason; whatever she refrained from engaging in or doing rotated back to a deep rooted hatred.
And Shirin despised cooking. She was phenomenal at it, but she greatly loathed it. Tonight's different, she told herself both verbally and mentally, so suck it up and stop complaining. She wasn't that good in uttering words of encouragement to anyone truth be told, however she was fantastic at a passive-aggressive consolation. She grew up with a mixture of tough love and affectionate support.
Another one of her talents was multitasking. She steadily stirred the sauce and kept a watchful eye on the noodles cooking beside it. She probably should've stopped her scowling and wincing whenever the red substance sizzled and tiny droplets of the hot fluid landed on her exposed forearms. She decided with a heavy sigh that some music could distract her mind from calling her brother and canceling their dinner plans.
Just as she turned on the song playing she heard the front door open with a click. Such a sound used to excite and entice her, but now she dully awaited his presence to be announced as she paddled back to their expertly equipped kitchen and let the instrumental tune ease her tense muscles.
"Shuri? Where're ya?"
"In the kitchen." She rose her voice so he could hear her over the flowing music. Even with the spices surrounding her senses she could still detect his familiar scent inching closer to her. She kept her auburn eyes on her task acting occupied and focused so he wouldn't pester her much.
