The BoyZ

Ayumu

A/N - There might be spoilers for the shows "Interview with the Vampire," "Bridgerton," and "Heartbreak High" so beware.

Disco from Surf Curse is playing in the background, I listen to Diego's faint hums from the living room as I cut pork shoulders into ¾ inch cubes and broil them, I chop one white onion, and gather the rest of the ingredients for Pozole Rojo. I asked Diego what he wanted for lunch and after a while of his indecisive ass trying to choose he came to the conclusion he wanted Pozole Rojo. I pulled up Pinterest in case I got anything wrong and so far, I've done pretty well. I've added the tostadas he recommended, the oregano and avocados, even the chicharron, chopped-up lettuce, and of course the pork with the chile, it looked similar to the Pinterest photos I saw so I'm assuming I did a decent job. I just hope he enjoys it.

"Bữa trưa đã sẵn sàng, công chúa" he does this thing where he randomly speaks Spanish and won't tell me what he means, so I thought why not do the same? Except in my native language.

When I get close enough to the living room, I can see his confused face, and I refrain from laughing.

"Was that Chinese or Korean?" he says as I place the bowl of Pozole Rojo on the table. I get the urge to roll my eyes, but I don't.

"Vietnamese"

"Your Vietnamese?"

"I'm half" I pick up the spoon full of pork shoulder to feed him and to my surprise he lets me, he gives me curious eyes and that gives me the impression to continue talking "My mom's Vietnamese and my dad is Japanese"

"No wonder why you're so fine" he takes another bite from the spoon I'm feeding him with. I get this unusual weird but warm feeling that makes me comfortable. With him, I can tell he's not sexualizing me and that makes me happy. "You know..." he takes another spoonful "Pozole Rojo is often served on holidays and special occasions" 

"Why's that?"

"It's considered a celebratory dish because of the Aztec people who view maíz as sacred and only served it on special occasions, it's usually related to religious ceremonies"

"What's maiz?" 

"Corn in Spanish" 

"Who's the Aztec people?"

"I forgot. I only know this from information my mom told me"

"So is it bad to eat it on a random day?" I set the spoon down, and he slightly pouted but picked up the spoon to feed himself.

"Nope, not that I know of" He chews and I wait for him to speak again "I was just letting you know"

"What do you think of my cooking?"

"For a first-timer you're good but I've tasted better," he says while slurping the last of the soup, whipping the bowl clean.

"Mhm, seems like you like it"

As the atmosphere gets quiet, I notice how his eyes twitch. He's looking at the TV screen, but I catch him constantly opening and closing his mouth like he wants to speak. Then it hits me: He hates the silence. Anytime the group is quiet, he either runs to the public bathroom at the arcade or restaurant or stays as far away from us as possible, even if it is comfortable quiet. "You like music, right?" I break the silence.

He slowly turns his head toward me, he gives me a look. I realize he's trying to see if I'm joking or not. "What I mean is do you like making music?"

He gives me the same look, a little sour than before, which confuses me. I'm pretty serious right now. "I'm not good but yeah" he finally says.