Heavenly Bodies (Lucifer FanFic) (Unfinished abandoned as of now)

CHAPTER 3 DINNER

I stayed glued to the driveway and rapidly went through the options in my head. What could I do? He was so pushy. But if he were going to kidnap or murder me he would've done it already. Right? What was his aim? I pondered the obscure situation as I took slow, apprehensive steps towards my house. He was already inside by the time I reached the door. I heard clattering, he was in my kitchen! That snapped me out of my analysis.

"What are you doing?" I demanded aggravated, but what my eyes laid on sucked the anger right out of me. It was rather odd to see a man in my kitchen, but Luke was a whole other story. I knew he was tall, but somehow he seemed much larger in my miniscule abode. The kitchen was recently renovated before I moved in, designed with a sleek silver and marble finish. The island connected to the counters separating the conjoined living and dining room and carpet from the laminate flooring. Yet the modern design suddenly seemed tacky and ill-placed with Luke standing in the center of it. I didn't cook very much nor did I have guests, so the cabinets were not well stocked. Still, he reached around like the place was his own and he was well accustomed to where everything was located. He moved around as if this were a typical Monday night and not the first time someone had stepped foot in my house in six months. He even put on the red apron my dad had bought for me when I moved in, assuming I'd have friends come over or that I would cook.

"Cooking." Luke answered, looking up from the cutting board and grinning. I couldn't deny I was stunned. I was sure that my heart was skipping beats and if you came near enough you could hear how loud it was beating. He smiled like he could hear it from where he was — which was impossible. He turned back to the steaks he was seasoning. "You keep this kitchen very poorly stocked, Teach. Don't you ever cook?"

"No." I said, taking a seat at one of the barstools that were the boundary between the living room and cooking area.

"Well, allow me to introduce you to the Japanese Kobe Steak. Best steak money can buy." He didn't look at me, but continued on cooking, humming to himself all the while. The feeling was unfamiliar, it had been a while since I had been around such warmth. I put my head down in my arms, resting against the marble top. I did not want to think about this. The meal smelled delicious. He didn't bother to ask my questions, just focused on cooking and setting the table. When everything was finished, I was famished. He walked over to the makeshift dining table I used to grade papers on and set out two of everything. Steak, potato fingerlings, sauteed broccoli and onions with a side salad. I couldn't deny, it all looked amazing. He sensed my awe and winked at me while pouring me a glass of red wine. Finally, he sat down and raised his glass toward me. "Bon appétit."

I smiled, raising my glass toward him.

"This looks wonderful." I took a bite. Crap. It tasted even better than it looked and smelled. Picking up on my growing, begrudging admiration, he smirked.

"How is it?" He asked, already knowing the answer.

"Good." I replied nonchalantly, determined not to let his already enormous ego grow any larger.

He chewed deliberately, flirting with his eyes.

"So, how are we feeling?'

With something to finally fill my stomach, I had to admit I did feel better.

"Better," I admitted.

"You don't look well fed." He noted and I felt some annoyance.

What was he insinuating? That I looked scrawny? I knew that couldn't be true. My hips were wide and if I used any word to describe them I would say dumpy.

"You just look sallow. Not enough color in your cheeks." He corrected, guessing at my insecurities. Was the stress that visible?

"Observant." I retorted, throwing a potato in my mouth.