Eléa Bellerose is a mysterious girl, no one knows what she's feeling or thinking. She lost her mother at birth due maternal death, making her feel guilty her whole life. Her only friend in this cruel world is her older brother, but when he gets kill...
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Eléa Bellerose
I wake up with the scent of pancakes filling my nostrils, I slept really good, wait who would be making pancakes right now?
I sit up and flashbacks from yesterday evening start flooding my mind, how I made his eyes roll back and he licked and fingered me—, righttt.
I get up and pull on a loose shirt, socks and some biker shorts before heading downstairs, following the amazing scent.
I walk in the kitchen and almost fall to my knees from the view in front of me, Alessio's bare, muscular and tan back is facing me as he's baking something.
How is he so perfect? His grey joggers are hanging low on his sides, showing off his Calvin Klein boxers.
Before I start drooling I make my way silently to him and when I'm close enough I smack his ass hard, making him jump a little.
"What the fuck Eléa?" He says while laughing a little.
"What are you making?" I ask him while smiling and standing next to him.
"Pancakes with some scrambled eggs and bacon if that's good for you?" He asks while putting his arm around my shoulder.
I nod, "Didn't know you could cook." I say while looking up at him, I always forget how talk he is.
"This is just the basics, I can do much more." He states.
"Hmm, okay. Independent man." I say while walking to the barstools to take a seat and enjoy the view.
"You know I could use a personal chef." I say.
He laughs, "Call me whenever you need me." and turns around to flip the pancake perfectly in the air.
"Tss, show-off." I say, hiding my surprise.
I grab my phone for a second to turn it on dnd and see that Dova's been texting me, whatever I'll look at them later.
After a few minutes he gives me a plate with pancakes, scrambled eggs and bacon on the side.
I'm so hungry, I immediately dig in and feel the amazing taste on my mouth. Wow, I've never tasted something like this before.
My dad is a good cook, but Alessio might've beaten him.
Alessio probably sees how much I'm enjoying because he's smiling again, "Good right?" he asks.
