Chef's Kiss

Strawberry Waffles

Violet

I knocked on the door at 7:55. We'd agreed I wouldn't normally come this early. They were night owls, so breakfast for them would usually be around noon. But that day, Matt and Chris had a 9am dentist appointment so there I was, bright and early.

The door swung open to a sleepy Matt, who didn't look entirely pleased to see me but was being polite enough.

"Morning, Violet," he greeted me, his voice thick with sleep and grogginess. He held the door open for me, and took my grocery bags from my hands, unprompted. I was planning on carrying them up and didn't expect that, but I handed them over nonetheless.

"Thanks. Morning, Matthew," I said back cheerily. I hadn't heard them call him anything other than Matt, but his full name just kind of came out. Plus I was excited to cook so I was in a good mood. I didn't do this job just for the money, although that was good. Cooking really did just make me happy.

I couldn't get a good read on him yet. He was moody, that boy. He was stone faced through most of our meeting the day before, and he didn't make eye contact with me much. I wondered if he was miserable, or if he was just like that. In the back of my imagination, I pictured the sound of rain tapping against a window, thunder in the distance. His moodiness just fit with his whole look. His hair was an absolute mess, and his blue eyes shone from behind the strands, fluffy, falling lightly over his gaze and all around his delicate face. I noticed now he had tattoos in the same style as Nick's, all over his left arm, although his giant t-shirt fell nearly to his elbow so I couldn't see them all. I hadn't seen them at our first meeting because he'd been wearing a hoodie, but I saw now that they were stunning pieces of work. My heart nearly stopped as my eyes landed on the realistic bumble bee on his forearm.

I had the same tattoo on my wrist.

My eyes lingered for a moment as I moved past him and up the stairs. Just as I walked up to the kitchen, Chris came out of the bathroom and our eyes met. I was grateful to see him, since I felt closest to him. Our little elevator encounter had set us up to be closer than the others, and I was okay with that. We felt connected.

His hair was tamped down by yet another hat, a beanie this time. He wore a simple white tshirt and grey sweats, enough to make my eyes stutter, and I noticed he didn't have tattoos. His beauty was fucking distracting so I was grateful when he spoke first.

"Good morning," he smiled, and I smiled back out of instinct.

"Morning, Christopher," I replied, unsure what to do with my hands, so I stuffed them into the pocket at the front of my sweater. "You ready for breakfast?" I asked, refocusing.

"Absolutely," he said on a stretch. His arms reached above his head as he yawned and his shirt pulled up, revealing a bit of his torso and sending a shockwave up my spine. He walked past me and threw himself onto the couch, face up.

"Chris, get up bro, go shower," Matt nagged at him, while Chris didn't move or open his eyes. "Chris!"

"I can't hear you dude, I'm asleep," Chris replied. The interaction was kinda...cute. I made my way into the kitchen and started unpacking the bag Matt had carried in for me, then started rummaging through the cabinets and cupboards so I could find their tools and everything I needed.

"So," I interrupted their little brotherly tiff, and Chris' head immediately popped up to look at me. I pushed down the laughter that almost bubbled out of me at the sight. "Waffles with strawberries and a side of bacon?" Not the healthiest breakfast, but we were going for homecooked comfort food this week.

Chris immediately dropped his head back to the couch. "Fuck yes," he groaned his agreement, and that time I did laugh. I wondered for a moment where Nick was.