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The Visit


RED

"Why are you always here?" I uttered, sinking into the plush cushions of the living room, my gaze fixed on the man standing in the kitchen. He effortlessly maneuvered a spatula, flipping a stack of perfectly golden pancakes, their tantalizing aroma wafting through the air, beckoning me closer.

Dressed in a layered ensemble of a blue shirt over a crisp white one, he exuded an air of casual elegance. His hair, once a light blond, had transformed into a darker shade, yet his inherent charm remained unchanged. Despite my attempt to appear unaffected, I couldn't deny the undeniable cuteness that emanated from his every pore.

With the culinary masterpiece complete, he gracefully balanced a plate piled high with pancakes and made his way toward me. The chair creaked softly as I shifted my weight, preparing to receive the much-anticipated breakfast offering. As he placed the plate before me, a warm smile graced his lips, and I couldn't help but feel a flutter of appreciation.

"Thank you," I murmured, my voice laced with gratitude, mindful of the importance of manners even amidst my curiosity.

Seating himself on a nearby stool, he settled beside me, his gaze unwavering and fixated upon me as I indulged in the feast spread before me. The sizzling sound of silence hung heavily in the air, a reminder of the unanswered question that lingered between us.

"You didn't answer my question," I gently prodded, my voice tinged with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty.

He remained silent for a moment, his eyes searching mine, as if seeking solace or understanding in the depths of my being. And then, with a touch as gentle as a whisper, his hand found its way to my hair, delicately toying with the curls that framed my face. His focus shifted to my hair, as though it held the secrets of the universe, captivating his attention in a way that enthralled me.

"Why?" he finally spoke, his voice infused with a subtle melancholy. "Have you grown tired of my company? Perhaps you've found another friend?" There was a hint of vulnerability in his words, and I struggled to discern whether he was upset or merely disappointed by my inquiry.

"I would never," I gasped, the words escaping my lips with an air of melodrama. The sincerity in my voice was unmistakable, the shock at his suggestions evident in my wide-eyed expression.

In an instant, his furrowed brow transformed into a hearty chuckle, revealing the dimples that adorned his cheeks. The rosy hue of my own cheeks deepened in response, a silent testament to the power of his infectious laughter. My gaze drifted from his face, tracing the curve of his mesmerizing Adam's apple as it rose and fell with each delightful outburst. I couldn't help but stare and listen to the beautiful sound he made.

"I didn't mean it in that way, I just..." I trailed off, my gaze retreating to the unfinished pancakes before me. To meet his eyes for too long felt like baring my soul as though he could read me like an old favorite book, pages memorized to heart.

"You just what, hmm?" he prompted, his fingers tenderly tucking a loose strand of my hair behind my ear, igniting a flutter within my chest. "Remember, sweetie, you can tell me anything."

I hesitated, my voice barely above a whisper as I voiced my confusion. "I just don't understand why you would want to spend time with me. You should be with people your age or someone special," I confessed, the words hanging delicately in the air, vulnerable yet genuine.

His gaze remained unwavering, his playful hair twirling coming to a gentle halt as he cupped my face, guiding my attention toward his penetrating eyes. "Who is to say that I'm not with someone special right now, hmm?" he murmured, his voice a soothing balm to my doubts.

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