Dents

[+Bonus Chapter] Hongkongaton

I woke up to the smell of coffee and burnt toast.

The bed was empty. The sheets still held the phantom warmth of his presence. The fabric was soft, white, and luxurious. It was hard to pull myself from the siren song of comfort I was engulfed in, but the day wouldn't wait for me just because I willed it to. The springs of the mattress cried out as I rolled onto my feet.

My toes sank in to the plushy red carpet. Drowsier than ever, I made my way to a wingback chair near the door. I fumbled for a bathrobe that had been flung over the arm last night and slipped it on. I went to investigate the foul smell coming from the kitchen.

The transition from carpet to hardwood was jarring. It was far colder in the main space than it was in the bedroom. The kitchen and living area boasted a substantial square footage, causing the entire floor to be drafty. A chill from a vent blew past my ankles. I shivered, shaking it off. An impenetrable smoke sat stagnantly in the air. It was impossible to see through. It was sweet, like maple syrup. Beneath that, there was also the earthy odor of cigarettes. I rubbed my tired eyes.

2D stood in front of the stove with his back to me. His silhouette was thin. His shoulders were tense. 

I could see only bits and pieces through the haze. From what I could tell, he was trying fervently to flip an egg without a spatula. His gangly arm flung about, wholly lacking the coordination needed to pull off such a maneuver. The egg stuck to the pan. It hardly moved an inch.

"Fuck," he whispered.

He was incredibly frustrated. He was also far too stubborn to call it quits. I burst out laughing.

"You okay, 'D?"

The frying pan clattered to the stovetop as 2D lost grip of it. He was so focused that he hadn't noticed me at all.

"Fuck!"

He yelled in surprise. When he turned and saw me standing there in the archway, mouth agape, he covered his lips with both hands and stared at me in horror. 

"Quite the language you have today, love. It's only nine AM," I teased.

2D did not have an answer for that. If he did, he was too embarrassed to say so. His cheeks flushed a brilliant scarlet hue. He twisted around, almost robotically, and realigned his attention to the egg. He was clearly hoping to rewind the clock to before he acted so cute.

He was failing. The bright red blush crept all the way to his ears. 

I pulled out a barstool from the table nearby and sat down. A cup of freshly brewed coffee waited for me. The smoke hanging in the room, the coffee steaming on the table, and 2D by the stovetop had me feeling sentimental. It reminded me of the first time we'd been to Hong Kong. It wasn't completely the same, though.

We were in a much nicer hotel. It was a high rise downtown overlooking the water. The view was equally stunning in the daylight as it was last night, hundreds of little cars driven by tiny people going down small roads twenty seven stories below.

I was so caught up in my thoughts that I didn't realize 2D had finished preparing breakfast. It was with great forethought that he decided to wear an apron. More food was on him than there was on my plate.

A lopsided stack of pancakes leaned dangerously close to the rim, adhered to it only by the sticky syrup it was drenched in. The bacon was burned and so was the egg. It was as if he had left it on the asphalt in the desert for a week before serving it to me on an elegant ceramic platter. The coffee, thankfully, was perfect. Maybe a bit strong for my liking, yet it was an exponential improvement to what I'd grown accustomed to.