Chemistry (Sam x Colby)

Colby - Dinner

I knew that Sam and I were different, but I did realise that we'd have opposite room asthetics. He's had a blue accent wall behind bookshelves, comfortable looking pillows and beanbags spread a round the the carpeted floor, and his bed was neatly made and adorned with blankets and pillows. Headless to say, it was easy to make myself comfortable. We studied until the door cracked open, and his younger brother walked into the room, insulted me, then told us that we could have some dinner. Sam looked at his shiny silver watch, pouting in disbelief, "It's almost seven 'o' clock? Already?" He looked over at me and asked if I'd like any food, I don't think I need to tell you that I replied with a yes though.

Following Sam's brother, we walked into the small, early 2000's style kitchen, where a stuffed plastic bag, so full of containers it was breaking, sat on the scratched island. Ben was getting out plates for us, and Sam peeked into the bag, getting out the little boxes. He looked at his brother, "Vietnamese?"
"You know it!"

Without needing permission, I slipped into one of that out of place, more modern bar stools and leaned my elbows onto the counter, where I quickly received my meal. "Thanks," on my plate was two small, clear burrito things, chunks of crispy chicken, other assorted meats and vegetables, and a pair of chopsticks. "what is anything on here?" I stared at what I didn't think looked like food, but didn't hear a reply, so I looked over at the dining table where Sam and Ben were sat at, only to see them looking at me like I had been brutally bashed to death and my brains were spilling out of my nose. A bit food fell out of Ben's mouth.

After a few violently quiet seconds, he talked, "Have... have you never had Vietnamese before?" Ever since I was a kid, my grandma had looked after me, and, being a grandma, she cooked a lot, so we hardly ever got take-out, but when we did, it was usually burgers or something else painfully American white. Sam butted in to the single-sided conversation, halfway through bringing some of the food up to his mouth with the chopsticks.

I watched how he used them, holding them and how he picked up chunks of the chicken flawlessly. Hesitantly, I snapped apart the wooden sticks (the only biodegradable things that had been bought), and tried to slip them into my fingers. Unbeknownst to me, Sam was watching. I heard a laugh from behind me, then he walked towards me. I could just feel his blue,over sized hoodie falling on my back. "Do you need some help?" I laughed nervously. Obviously he already was aware of the answer.

He wiggled the chopsticks into the crook of my thumb, then held my hand, manipulating it into picking up one of the rolls. His hands were soft and gentle, but reassuring and firm at the same time. I looked up at him, seeing him stare at me as well, right as the roll was moving up towards my face. I began to smile at him, terrible timing, as the roll was smashed into my cheek. Letting go of my hand, he giggled. "Close enough."

                                       *

I gave up on the chopsticks, eventually just eating with a fork, but I was still the last person to finish eating. Sam took my plate, giving it to Ben who was making fart sounds with the dish soap as he squeezed it on to a dirty plate. "Would you like some dessert?"