Frequencies

XVIII

SWIPE AND HIT PLAY FOR MUSIC!

Gabby's POV
•€•
November 25th(Thanksgiving)

Just when I thought the sight of him couldn't be anymore hypnotic, he decides to cook for me. In a shirt that fits him so neatly. I take a sip of my wine and quiet the thoughts in my mind.

"Who taught you how to cook," I ask. He moves swiftly around the kitchen. That mixed with the silence makes my head do rounds.

He told me that he didn't want me to help with anything so I stay put. I just wonder if he likes the silence or doesn't mind the sound of my voice.

He constantly brags about how good of a cook he is and he promised to let me find out for myself.

I'm guessing it's sort of a hobby.

He looks so happy doing it. I admire how he much smiles as he tastes after every step. He seems to be in a safe place, which I enjoy watching.

Usually, I'd be out for dinner with Maya on this day of the year. Thanksgivings aren't really that special to me. My parents don't even know what the holidays means. It's just another reason for my mother to cook more than anyone can eat.

"Earth to chef," I tease. He looks at me and laughs.

"Sorry, what did you say?" he asks smiling at me.

"Who taught you how to do all of this?" I ask once more.

"My brother did, actually. Uh...He kinda liked to throw whatever we had together and I'd help him. It wasn't always the most tasty but it made me like cooking," his laugh is so wholesome.

He really seems to be in his element. Making Salmon and sides that I can't quite make out to go with it.

His arm moves in a circular motion as a soft smile graces his face, his muscles slightly flexing as he moves.

"It must be nice to be an older sibling that has a younger sibling that actually picks up a few valuable lessons," I sarcastically state, taking another sip of this heaven sent wine.

I love wine and so does he. He has sort of collection. Had...actually. Sometimes I'd come over just to steal a bottle just because. Sharing is caring.

"Kaitlin does the opposite of everything I do," I say.

"I didn't always follow his rules but when I grew up I realized that I took him for granted most of the time," he says with a smile on his face.

Whenever he spoke about his brother, he did it with a smile so that it wouldn't seem like a sad topic. It was clearly a sore subject but I wanted to know more about him.

"Mmmmmhmmm," I hum shyly, taking another sip from my glass and breaking eye contact.

"Why do you always act he's going to haunt you if you talk about him?"he questions amused.

He finds himself hilarious because he knows I'm trying my best to tread lightly. I squint my eyes at him before I find him leaning over the island and pecking my lips. He pulls away with a teasing stare.

"No, I don't," I say.

"Alright, sure. Ms.Mmmmhmmm," he chuckles. He turns back around to the stove and drains the pasta.

"I don't know, it's just...we've grown up so differently and I admire how much joy you found in what little you had," I say, focusing on my glass as I circle the rim with my finger.

He wipes his hands in a towel and walks around the island, sitting in the stool beside me. He pulls me up into his lap and I relax on top of him, now circling my finger on the tattoo that strains his forearm.