Turbulence [𝗠.𝗩.]

Monaco, Summer Shutdown, Day One Cont

Clubbing with the lads - @JamesWebb

@JamesWebb How drunk did you get? - @JessicaBond57

@JessicaBond57 Not drunk enough! - @JamesWebb

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MONACO
SUMMER SHUTDOWN
JULY

I'm going to make him enjoy cooking. Or at least actually bother to cook his own meals from scratch. I know I'm on a full diet of pre-planned meals, but they still require me to cook the ingredients. Max apparently just cooks the parts up and throws it on a plate.

We're fixing that right now, though.

The oven is warming up as I search his kitchen for minced beef, onions and a few other bits. I'm careful about where I look, even though he's told me to go for it. I open each drawer with hesitant moves, as if I expect to be coming across something private, that contains secrets. I'm not. It's cutlery, or pans, or trays.

After a few minutes, all the pieces are together on the kitchen side. I wave him in to come and wash our hands in the sink.

"Did you get any cheese, or cheese slices?" I ask as we wash. "I didn't see any in the fridge."

"They're in the door; I'll grab them."

"We don't need them yet, it can wait."

With our hands washed, I dry them on a spare section of disposable kitchen roll before going to the side again. I use a knife to stab open the packet of meat, breaking off half of the contents and placing it into a clear glass mixing bowl. Max comes to join me, standing slightly behind and to my right.

"Burgers are easy to make. First thing my mum taught me to cook."

"You eat them faster—"

"You cook them, yeah yeah yeah, I know, mister I have a private jet and a Monaco flat and oodles of money compared to the poor broke rookies." I point a finger at his stupid grinning face. "Shush up. You're rich, but you're gonna be cooking tonight like a normal person."

"You're rich too, you know."

"I don't own a ten million quid jet." No, I'm never letting go of that. It's going to be the only thing I can hang over his head... unless I get a jet myself. "Now shush up and grab the seasonings."

He gives me a mocking salute, reaching out to the right to do as he's told. We fall into a silence as I prepare the burgers, following the method ingrained in my head from watching and helping my mum as a teenager. Max's cats yowl every now and then, breaking the quiet. At one point, they're running across the flat like they've just drank rocket fuel. I ignore them and keep on working on the food.

For his part, he's actually helping out, and he's not complaining. It just goes to show all that bluster is just that: hot air. The kitchen fills with the scent of the seasoned meat as I begin to gently cook the burgers, taking care to not burn them but to get them to that just crispy texture.

"Right, so, the chips will be done soon. We'll toast the buns ever so slightly..." I pause, realising that he's staring at me with this dopey smile. "What?"

He snaps out of it, shaking his head and trying to appear like he wasn't just staring. It's... Well, it's kind of adorable. "Nothing."

"Uh-huh. Sure." I have to turn from him to hide the way I can't keep this stupid smile from forcing itself onto my face. "Turn the oven off once the timer goes. They can sit there while I finish the burgers."

The last minutes of meal preparation go by in perfect synchronisation: Max turns off the oven, and I toast the buns and load them up with the fresh fillings. He fetches the cheese and slices the lettuce to my instructions. When all is done and I'm loading the plates with the two portions of chips, there's a beautiful moment of joy. It's what I'm trying to teach him. There's a joy to cooking, sometimes. Just because the meal is eaten in a matter of minutes, doesn't mean the preparation is pointlessly long.

"Pick a plate, they're both the same—" My words are cut off as something crashes down in another room. We look at each other with a matching set of oh fuck expressions before breaking out into laughter. Whatever the cats have knocked over, we'll worry about it later.

I pick up a plate, spotting Max going to the fridge — Ah. Drinks. I'd forgotten about that. With him fetching them, I take both plates to the dining table, placing them down and sitting down to wait for him. He brings over two cans of fizzy drink and once he's sat down, we're tucking into the meal.

The sound of satisfaction off of him tells me I might have won the little argument.

"Enjoying it?" I'm not going to even pretend I'm not smug.

"Not at all." He mumbles through a mouthful of food, trying to hide a smile.

"Sure, Max. Sure."

The meal goes by in relative silence; we forgot all about cutlery but neither of us brings it up, too busy enjoying the rich meal to want to pause to fetch a fork. There's another clatter of something in another room, but again, we're not fussed that the cats are knocking things over.

It's only after we've polished off our plates that Max goes to the other room - I think his bedroom - for a few minutes. He returns with the larger cat in his arms, and I know that guilty feline expression. He's caught them up to no good again.

"They broke into my suitcase. And yours."

"So... typical cat shenanigans." I say, picking the plates up and taking them to his dishwasher, to be loaded in with the other things we've used.

The night draws in slowly as we fall into a domestic calm that isn't too dissimilar to when we were at mine. The floor-to-ceiling windows reveal a burning sky giving way to dark blues as the sun sinks below the watery horizon. I'm resting on his leather sofa, trying my absolute best not to stare at him.

It's hard not to. The dark blue turtleneck shirt he's been wearing all day makes the angle of his jaw sharp.

Eventually, he catches me. I go red as he chuckles at me, one hand reaching up to pull me into his side. I hook my legs over his own without thinking, curling into him. His free hand finds one of mine; our fingers entwine without a word or a glance shared between us. A lump grows in my throat as my mind tells me something I've been trying not to hear it say for a while now: You're basically a couple, now. You're acting like it.

So why is it so hard for me to say anything about it?