Entangled rivalries (bxb)

3. Mac n cheese

E L I A S

An awkward silence settled between Andrew and I as we focused on our project.

"So," Andrew begins, sounding a bit nervous.

"Yes?" I inquire, tilting my head to meet his gaze.

"Are you interested in anyone?"

I hadn't anticipated this question.

"Maybe," I reply.

"Who is it?" Andrew's tone becomes more stern.

His question feels more like a demand than a genuine inquiry.

"Why do you want to know?"

"It's nothing, really. I was just trying to make conversation," Andrew responds, sounding disinterested.

That's what I thought.

"Fine, whatever. Let's just get on with it," I retort, rolling my eyes.

We've been at our project tasks for a solid 45 minutes, and hunger gnaws at my stomach.

I let out a frustrated groan. "Can we take a break? I'm starving."

He meets my gaze. "Sure, what do you feel like eating?"

"Anything works," I reply.

"How about mac and cheese?"

"Yeah, sounds good," I say, masking my excitement, though secretly thrilled because I've been craving it.

We both stand up, and I trail behind him into his kitchen.

"Do you live alone?" I inquire, noticing the absence of anyone else around, though his spacious house suggests otherwise.

"No, I live with my parents and two sisters. But my parents are away on a business trip, and both my sisters are at their friends' houses for some meetup or something. I'm not entirely sure," he explains.

Wow, that's a lot of family dynamics to process.

"Interesting. How old are your sisters?" I probe as he prepares the mac and cheese. Up close, I realize his features are quite striking, although I'd never admit it to him.

"Sixteen or was it seventeen? Honestly, I can't remember. Hanging out with you is making me as dumb as you," he remarks, a smirk playing on his lips.

I scoff, "I highly doubt that. If anything, I think your stupidness is rubbing off on me."

"Sure," he replies nonchalantly, earning an urge in me to strangle him.

"Anyway, the macaroni's ready. Let's eat," he says, interrupting my homicidal thoughts.

I take a bite, savoring the delicious flavor. He should consider a career as a chef.

"Have you ever thought about becoming a chef?" I inquire, impressed by his cooking, but refraining from inflating his ego further.

"Maybe, a few times. Would you dine at my restaurant if I opened one?" he asks, his tone smug yet betraying a hint of blush.

"Perhaps, if you tone down the attitude," I retort, rolling my eyes.