All I'm Asking

Adagio

The end of the month was approaching and I was beginning to feel the weight of the semester press down on my shoulders. Our workload was picking up and the stakes were high. Especially for me. I'd just finished my Aural Skills assignment and settled on the couch with a book when I heard a knock at the door. Urrrghhh, who could that be? I let out a frustrated huff and threw my weighted blanket aside. I sulked over to the door and looked through the peeky hole. Of course it was Brett and Eddy. What are they doing here so late? I opened the door baffled by their presence. "What are you guys doing here? You do realize it's nine o' clock at night, right?"
"Yeah..." Eddy looked sheepishly back a Brett who was looking down at his shoes. "It's kinda funny actually."
I raised my eyebrow awaiting his hilarious tale.
"So the thing is... well you see, what happened is..."
I'd never heard Eddy so... nervous? Embarrassed? What was going on with him?
"You're going to laugh, really."
"Well, that tends to be the trend when one is told a funny story."
"Well, it's more of a question really." Brett's gave remained on the floor. How could one person wear such a deadpan and woeful expression all the time?
"Yeah, it's more of a question." Eddy choked back in.
"Okay..." I was really confused.
"It's a really funny question actually."
"Can't wait to hear it."
"You're going to laugh."
I let out a sign. "I just finished a ridiculous amount of homework and I'm tired. So please ask you're question." I didn't mean to scare them, but Eddy looked at me wide eyed. While Brett just turn to stone right in front of me. An awkward silence stretched between us.
"Okay we'll goodnight." I shut the door only to feel it bounce back at me.
"We wanted to ask if you'd make us food!" Eddy sounded both desperate and embarrassed. But I opened the door again.
"What? Why?"
"Well, we were thinking about what you said the other day. Eating out all the time really isn't good for us. But we can't cook. Plus, we like hanging out with you! Yaaay!" I think his jazz hands were meant to persuade me. But I just couldn't believe that these two grown men were standing in my doorway asking a twenty three year old to cook for them.
"Pleeeeeeaaaaaaassssssssseeeeee?" Boys sang in the hallway. My resolve melted and I opened the door wider for them to come in.
"Yay! Y/N is going to cook for us!" They boys jogged into my living room and plopped on the couch.
"You guys seem tired." I closed the door and made my way to the kitchen.
"Yeah, we spend all day filming again. The video took much longer than we thought it would." Eddy flopped his head onto one of my couch pillows.
"Y/N." I turned around at the sound of Brett's voice. Has his voice always been that deep? "You look exhausted. Are you sure you're up to cooking for us?" His eyes looked like they held all the world's heaviest burdens.
"Yeah, I'm fine. I've been doing homework all weekend so I am pretty mentally exhausted. But I can still cook for you guys." You swore you wouldn't do this anymore. Stop putting everyone else's needs before your own.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, it's fine." Stop it right now or it'll be Nico all over again.
"Can I help?" Brett walked over to the long island.
"What?"
"Can I help?"
"Oh, umm..." tell him no. This is a danger zone. What if he notices?
"We're burdening you. So at least let me help."
"You're not burdening me."
"We're inconveniencing you."
"You're not inconveniencing me."
"Oh really? We knock on your door at nine o' clock at night, we invite ourselves into your home, all while begging you to cook us food. Your food. Sounds like a both a burden and an inconvenience."
"It's not."
"How so?"
"Because I don't mind doing it."
"How do we know you don't mind?"
"Because I just told you I don't mind."
"And we're supposed to just take your word for it."
"Yes."
"So then why do you throw such a tantrum about letting us help you?"
I lightly tossed one of my cookbooks onto the island. "That's different."
"How?"
"It just is."
"Except... I don't think it is."
"It is. Okay? It just is."
"Let me guess, 'it's complicated.' Right?"
"No actually, it's not." I felt my face burning as I struggled to keep my temper under control. "It's not complicated at all. When I say I don't mind, I actually mean it. Other people don't."
I angrily flipped to the Pisou soup recipe.
"I know."
"What?" I looked up at him, my voice barely audible.
"I know that other people don't mean it. But Eddy means it. I, mean it." His eyes bore into mine as if he wanted to embrace my soul with his gentle intensity.
"How do I know that?" For the first time in over a year, I felt myself holding back tears.
"You don't. I'm not asking you to trust us whole-heartedly. All I'm asking is for you to allow us the opportunity and the privilege of earning your just. No matter how long it takes. Just give us a chance."
I nodded swallowing tears. "I already have."
Brett leaned on the island gazing at the design. But I could see him smiling to himself ever so slightly. But it was different than Nico's smile.
"Don't get too excited, I didn't want to and it goes against my better judgement."
"I know. I just can't contain the joy it brings me to hear you say that."
  
   Brett started some water on to boil. Once Eddy saw Brett in the kitchen, an expression of guilt washed over his face and propelled him into the kitchen as well. I read each step to the boys as we journey through the recipe. I actually really enjoyed cooking for others. But for some reason the task always seemed a little more like a choir when completing it for only myself.
   "Y/N uses a cookbook, she's so fancy." Eddy seemed genuinely impressed by my culinary poweress. If only Eddy knew the real reason I have to use a cookbook. But something changed that night. Brett kept stifling little smiles when I glanced at him. But what was worse was that I was following suit. What have you done.