Simone Valentino

Epilogue

I sat at the kitchen table, watching Simone spin around, grabbing eggs, a bowl and spoons. I had turned on the radio and some new age comedian was playing. He wasn't too bad, so I let it play as Simone baked me a cake.

He grabbed an apron off the door and undid his shirt, letting it fall to the floor. He wasn't facing me so I could see his scars, the skin standing up on his back. I walk over and trail my finger along with the longest one. I feel him shiver under my finger. He spun around, and something was burning in his eyes. My jaw drops, and I take a step back out of fear. He stands up straighter and looks away. I can tell a part of him is still scared, and still uses his edge to protect himself.

"I'm sorry." He mumbles.

"Why do you always take off your shirt whenever you find an opportunity? Most people prefer when someone wears enough clothes." Our apologies don't last more than ten minutes. They're always followed by a joke, a smile, maybe a kiss. Neither of us could stand tension so it worked well.

"I work to look this good! I would like to show it off! And don't act like you don't appreciate it." He smiles, turning to look at me and then dropping the apron over his head. "Could you tie this?" He gestures to the two pieces of string hanging from the apron and I tie them into a bow.

I sink back into my seat just in time to hear the name of the comedian.

"Lenny Bruce the sick comedian"

"Why would they call him that?"

"No clue," Simone said, cracking an egg with one hand. He picked up the bowl and pulled a whisk out of the drawer. stirring the egg he walked over to me and then paused. He changed the table to some song I didn't know. Simone smiled and began singing along. I raised an eyebrow at him and he kissed me softly, still siring the eggs then humming as he walks back to the counter. Pouring the vanilla into the small glass bowl.

He pulled the cake out of the oven, the small golden disc looked warm and came out of the pan smoothly. He dropped his cooking mitts next to the sink. taking off his apron I threw his balled up shirt at him and walked over to the sink. Fill it with warm soapy water and drop the dishes in. Simone buttoned his shirt up to the third button and I rolled my eyes with a smile. He leaned down and kissed my forehead, then moved down to my nose. I was on my tiptoes, trying to reach him but instead, he lifted me up with one arm around my waist, holding me to him. His hand trailed my cheek and he set me on the counter to free his other hand. I wrapped my arms around his neck and he pulled me close. I felt him smile against my lips as the oven timer went off. He put me down and went back to cooking. I sat back down and changed the channel, smiling to myself as he sang along to Frank Sinatra.