The Risks we take

Twenty Two

Reed/Sloane

~Reed~

The bed is empty when I wake up. Hints of makeup on the pillow beside mine tell me she did stay the night which was a good first sign. However, her not being here when I woke up isn't posing it all so well. She fell asleep taking me through her life. School year by school year. I was getting confused by it all, apparently it all works differently over there.

She told me I'd change my mind today about going back with her but honestly, I've never been huge on the states anyway. I've been here because I had to be. But with no job, no family, just Sloane, I had nothing keeping me here and not following her. It was a quick on the moment decision but I still had 8 months with her to know it's what we both wanted. If something went wrong in that time, which it wouldn't, or at the end of it I'd be 100% certain. Either way. Deciding now couldn't go amiss.

I pulled back the bed sheets, hearing some clattering downstairs and then music. Not loud. But it was on. She was still here. In my kitchen. I pulled my pyjama pants on and crept downstairs quietly. I wanted to watch her without her knowing I was here. Thinking I could catch a glimpse of the unadulterated Sloane. The one who was here when no one was watching.

I couldn't help smiling when I got to the room, leaning against the door frame with crossed arms and watching my girlfriend dance around the kitchen whilst listening to music on her phone whilst wearing nothing but a thong and my green tee-shirt from last night. She could keep that one. It looked way better on her than it ever would me.

"Don't you know that nice guys finish last?," Oh my god she's singing. Super off key but
"So if you brought me roses, you can take 'em back, Oh, it'd be a shame if you wasted a perfect bouquet" Jesus. She continued, moving in time to the music, hips swaying left to right as she held her hand over the pan pouring something into it slowly, swirling it around the pan edges. It's nice to hear her taste in music. "Fuck flowers, just bring the Chardonnay, Drop your clothes and kick your shoes, Yeah, let's get to it, babe, We can go all night long, film it on my iPhone, Baby, leave the lights on, the lights on."

I think I've heard enough.

~Sloane~

"I was kind of excited to buy you flowers but if you'd rather me-" I dropped the spatula as Reed wrapped his arms around me, burning my hand on the pan as I tried to grasp for it.

"OW. Ow ow ow ow ow." I pulled the pan off the heat, turning the tap across the room to cold water and holding my hand over it before turning back to a slightly terrified Reed. "I didn't know you were up."

"I've been watching you for like 5 minutes." He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and I reached for him with my free hand, wanting to pull him closer.

"I'm fine. It's a little burn."

"I should have-"

"Reed. I'd have jumped even if you were across the room. Probably would have done the same. I've had much worse. It's okay." He walked over slowly, peeking over the top to see my hand. "See, just red. I'll keep it here for a few minutes." He seemed a lot taller today. Maybe it was the shock of last night wearing off. The only other time I've seen him really I've had my heels on. "You're taller."

"No taller than last night. Or the last 4 months."

"Yeah but I'm normally in heels." My eyes levelled with the centre of his chest. "I feel short."

"Here." Reed lifted me up onto the counter beside the sink. "Better?"

"I'm still short."

"You're the perfect height Sloane."

"I had to use a chair to get to the back of your fridge." He tried to not laugh. He should have seen it. Who keeps eggs in the very back of the fridge anyway?

"Am I gonna have to Sloane proof my house? Bring everything important to the right height?"

"I tried to make you pancakes." He looked over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow. "English pancakes. Crepes if you prefer to call them that."

"They're very- flat."

"Have you got any lemon juice?"

"Like for cooking?"

"Mhm."

"Um. Maybe." He pulled a cupboard door open, holding a hand over my head so it didn't hit me even when I ducked. A grey plastic box was pulled from the top shelf and he started rummaging through it. I find people's cupboards tell a lot about them. From this morning alone, I'd discovered Reed loved to cook. He had ingredients, cook books, and utensils I'd never seen before. He was also excessively organized. Everything seemed to have its place. Nothing was thrown around haphazardly. Each drawer had dividers in. Each cupboard had labelled boxes and the contents were organized neatly. All except the one he was going through now. which seemed to be odds and ends, things that wouldn't fit into the box if he tried to stack them neatly. "Here you go."

"Okay, I can't move, you're gonna have to help."

"With what?"

"Pancakes." I pointed at the stack and then the counter. "Bring the stack and plates. Knives and forks. Um. A spoon and sugar."

"Sugar? Where does the lemo-"

"Don't interrupt or ask questions about traditions you're gonna be sunk into next year Reed."

"This is a tradition?"

"Yes. We eat pancakes on shrove Tuesday. Huge deal back home. These are essentially flour, eggs, milk and a little oil. No flavourings so it all relies on your toppings." He landed the things I'd asked for in front of me and I started making him one up. "Some people do Savory, some do sweet. Savory toppings are usually like cheese sauces and things. Sweet varies a lot but the most popular flavours are strawberry jam, what you call jelly, Nutella-"

"You have that over there?"

"Yeah, of course. It's everywhere too." I smiled at him actually listening. "Then you've got the Windsor's favourite. Sugar and lemon juice."

"Sugar and lemon juice?" I nodded, rolling the pancake up tight, cutting off a slice and stabbing it. "It sounds, no offence, disgusting."

"If you don't like this then my parents simply won't allow me to bring you home." I shrugged at him pushing the fork towards him a little more. "It's good."

"Is this going to be payback for making you burn yourself?" I rolled my eyes, putting the food into my mouth and smiling as I chewed.

"Deny it again and I'll tell you to go screw I'll eat them all alone." He let out a breath as I fluttered my eyelashes at him. "Please? You did shit me up and make me burn my hand." I held up another slice, this time he finally gave in, leaning forward and taking it quickly. I let him chew. Eyebrows moving across his face as he tried to work it out. "They're not fluffy like your pancakes. This is the same mix for Yorkshire puddings so a lot of people would keep it and then make like toad in the hole the next day or they live on pancakes for 2 days. I've done that before. What do you think?"

"This is your favourite?" I nodded. "How's your hand?"

"Sore. I need to- HEY!" He grabbed the plate from the side, taking a few big strides backwards, quickly eating the rest of the pancake. "Good job I made more then huh?"

"What's a Yorkshire Pudding? And Toad in the hole?" I giggled. American accents saying British words are so funny.

"This is going to be fun."

"What is?"

"Teaching you about my home stuff. I'm gonna have to teach you how to blend in. You like to cook right?"

"Yeah."

"We can start there. Do you know what a roast dinner is?"

"Like a BBQ?"

"No. No. Not a BBQ." I have my work cut out for me apparently.