Chemical Fusion

Part 7

Eric’s POV:

I can’t wait for Finn to get home. I know he said he wouldn’t be back for probably another few days, but the emptiness of this apartment is already getting to me, and he’s only been gone for almost four hours. I stare idly at my phone, trying to will a message from Finn into it. Suddenly, my phone vibrates. The screen lights up, and my notifications read:
Message from Fe (Iron).
I try not to laugh at the name I gave him on my phone. His initials, Finn Ember, or F.E., make up the abbreviation for the element Iron. So, I thought it might be cool to name him that on my phone. I quickly open the message. It reads:
“Hey, change of plans. I’ll be coming home tonight after all. I’m omw rn. Hope I’m not ruining any of your party plans lol”
I’m not very surprised how relieved I feel receiving that message. I feel kind of like a doting wife waiting at home for her husband to come back from work. I’ve only known him for two days and I’m already attached. That’s… not great. Here I am anticipating his return, when I have no idea if he even thought about me at all today. I should probably text him back.
“I’ll be waiting lol”
Was that weird? Maybe that was weird. No going back now, I guess. My phone vibrates again.
“I’ll be home in about 2 hrs and 45 mins. See you then >waving emoji<”
“See you when you get home lol”
Never in my life had I imagined that someone would text me, telling me they’ll be ‘home’ soon. Finn thinks this is home. Do I think this is home? Much more ‘homey’ than my parents’ house. I really think that home depends more on the people inside than the home itself. This apartment already feels more like home than I’ve ever felt before, and I’ve only been here two days. I hope it stays like this. A home would be nice.

Finn will probably be back around dinnertime. Would it be weird to make him dinner? I mean, everyone likes food. And he needs to eat, too. Why would I make dinner for just myself and not him? That would be kind of selfish, wouldn’t it? Besides, I’m confident (for once) that Finn will appreciate it. For some reason, Finn seems to appreciate everything I do for him. It’s strange, when I’ve hardly done anything praiseworthy in my life, but it’s nice to feel validated sometimes. Another reason why I should be making him dinner right now. I should let him know that I appreciate him, too. Now to decide what to make. Finn didn’t specify if he had any allergies, so I really have nothing to go off of here. I’ll just make something everyone likes. Like… well, there’s nothing really that everyone likes, so should I just go with what I like? Again, I feel like that might be a little selfish. I don’t feel like dwelling on this for much longer. Maybe I could literally just ask him what he wants for dinner? Somehow, I feel like it wouldn’t be as fun if he knew I was cooking him dinner.

I looked up a couple recipes in my recipe book, and decided on tortilla soup. A soup made with chicken broth, rice, canned chicken, corn, black beans, salsa, and a few seasonings. It’s a rather mild soup, and, while I don’t think so, some people have told me it’s a little spicy. I can tolerate spicy foods, and I prefer them, so I really don’t see it, but I guess the salsa that even says ‘mild’ on it is too spicy for them. Their loss, I guess.
I get to work on the soup, taking extra care to add just the right amount of salsa (it really is a game changer). I’m almost finished when I realize I should check the time. If Finn won’t get home soon, I probably shouldn’t add the black beans, corn, or rice yet. They might get a little overcooked and mushy, and nobody likes a soup like that. I check the time on my phone after wiping my hands. It’s almost five thirty. Finn should be home in about fifteen minutes. I should be safe to add the ingredients. While I do so, I put on one of my playlists. I set it to shuffle and turn up the volume. Anytime someone’s home, I’ll use headphones, but I really prefer to turn it all the way up and just vibe, which is what I’m doing now.

About ten minutes later, the soup is almost finished and I’m putting away the ingredients and not dancing around the kitchen, when I turn around to see a very amused Finn leaning on the kitchen island. I practically jump three feet when I see him.
“Hey there,” he says breezily. “Having fun?” He laughs. It’s cute, and I blush.
“I- uh, yeah.” I stammer, turning redder by the second. “Do you- um… I made dinner?” I gesture awkwardly toward the pot of soup on the stove. This is not going how I wanted it to. I had expected that Finn would open the door and I’d be waiting with dinner ready, totally anticipating his return and what I would say.
Finn smiles again. Is it that easy to make someone smile?
“Cool, thanks a bunch.” As he walks by me, he ruffles my hair. Oh my god. Why am I swooning over everything he does? I mean, it’s not my fault he’s so damn cute all the time.
I take a bowl from the cupboard and get my own bowl of soup. I really hope it tastes alright. I take a seat across from Finn. He takes a bite of his soup, and, for some reason, he makes a strange face. I’m worried that it tastes weird, so I take a bite, too. It tastes fine. The same as always. Now I’m really confused. Finn’s face turns a little red, and he coughs.
“This is-” he coughs again, “a little spicy, don’t you think?”
I almost burst out laughing. I never would have thought Finn to be one with a low spice tolerance. He seems so much stronger and more capable than I am, so I figured he would handle spice as well, if not better, than I do. I laugh again.
“I’ll get you some water.” I get up from the table, pour Finn a glass of water, and return to my own seat. Finn laughs a little.
“I feel kind of bad, making you do everything like this. Let me pull my own weight around here sometime, alright?”
That’s a little strange. Normally, most people would want to do things for themselves, or do the least amount of work possible. Finn really is a little strange. But that’s probably why I’m so drawn to him, to be perfectly honest. Sometimes I wonder if he’ll ever be drawn to me.