My hand stretches above my head as my toes hoist my body further to the shelf positioned way too high for my liking.
In a swift movement, my hand pulls the glass bowl down from the wooden cabinet and carefully sets it on the busy countertops. The iron skillet on the stove holds vegetables and meat captive as it creates an aroma that fills the nostrils of the people in the room. Though it's only Dakota and me.
"Great, now move your dry seasonings into the bowl and mix it with the pork," he instructs from the other side of the counter as he coaches me in the kitchen.
Too tired to act foolishly with him, I do as he says. I place the whisk into the bowl allowing the pork and seasoning to "mix" to life. He seems pleased with my work as he gives me a few words of encouragement. This motivates me, for praise and confidence is always a boost for my self-esteem. Assured in myself, I grab the glass bowl with one hand and pour the meat into the pan. A grin of satisfaction grows on my face as I hear the pan sizzle. The steam hits my face as my lips return to their natural expression. The steam covers the lens of my glasses, I pull back.
"What do I do now?" I ask in a breathy voice.
Dakota looks around the kitchen before nodding his head over to the stove.
"Turn the water off for the noodles, they are boiling."
My hands reached for the hot knob at the edge of the stove and turned it quickly to the right putting the flame out. The pot slowly bubbles down before I'm left with another steamy pot, this one just contains pasta. Dakota watches silently as I reach for the oven mitts and carry the hot pot to the sink. I slowly strain the water making sure the water is being poured away from my chest, just like Dakota told me.
The pasta falls out of the pot and softly splashes onto the metal strainer. I flinch softly as I move my shirt from the edge of the sink. The pot is discharged into the hot water melting a few bubbles as it hits the bottom of the sink. I turn my attention back to the stove that contains the sauce boiling on the stove. My hands reach to the wooden spoon to stir the elements inside of the pan before Dakota speaks up.
"Taste it to make sure it's how you like it."
I stopped my movements before looking over at him "I don't know what I like. I don't cook."
A chuckle immersed from his lips before he continued the conversation "You still need to taste it."
A groan builds up in the depth of my throat but I swallow it as I bring a new spoon to my lips and taste the sauce. I burst into a quick happy dance before turning back to the grinning boy.
"You make very good spaghetti."
"You're the one who's cooking." He replied, shaking his head softly. A second paused before I started to talk again.
"Should I plate it now?" I questioned nodding my head over to the two clean bowels.
He nodded softly before moving from his seat. He entered the kitchen grabbing two forks. Dakota's movements were very different from mine as he moved quicker than I could. Dakota moved like an experienced chef. It was quite entertaining to watch actually. There sitting upon the counter were two bowls of hot spaghetti garnished with parsley and parmesan cheese.
Dakota was busy pouring wine into two previously chilled champagne glasses. I spent my time carefully bringing the bowls to the coffee table and setting them down in our designated spots in the living area.
He soon joined me on the couch. He brought the glasses and one glass of water for me. I plopped down on the couch that was filled with pillows that had been mischievously scattered. I didn't bother adjusting them as I was more focused on eating the dinner that I prepared.
YOU ARE READING
marigold | min yoongi
Фанфик"Don't thank me," The man flicks his wrist confidently checking the time on his watch. I glance at it as well, noticing it's made out of shiny material and most likely very expensive. It resembles a watch that my horrid father would most likely wear...
