The six-month housemate

Twenty-five

TWENTY FIVE

So I was back in the kitchen, cooking pancakes for Alex. Turns out:

1. If you ask a guy if he wants pancakes (or any kind of food, really), he will answer yes.

2. Alex really couldn't cook to save his life.

#1, I guess, wasn't that surprising.

#2 I discovered when, after stupidly leaving the room for two minutes to get my book in the living room (and I swear it was only two minutes. Maybe even less; the living room is just across the entrance from the kitchen.), an alarm went off and water started sprinkling down from the ceiling. I bolted to the kitchen; Alex was leaning in the cupboard containing the switchboard, triggering stuff to make the rain stop.

"I think it's the green switch. Top left." I indicated.

He pressed on it, and everything stopped. It was suddenly very quiet, without the high-pitched alarm blaring in your ears. I looked around me, assessing the damage. The floor was drenched, but that could be fixed easily. No books had been opened on any counter exposed to the spray, so that was good.

I was completely drenched; you could see my bra through my shirt, which clung closely to my skin, and my hair stuck to my face. Alex was already starting to dry, as he was still as shirtless as he'd been when he'd come down. Like mine, his hair was completely wet; it was a tone darker than normal, which only emphasised his blue eyes. There was an occasional drop of water that dribbled down his torso, rolling on his muscles like a stone on rolling hills. Oh shut up Emma. I scolded myself.

"What the hell was that?" I finally said out loud.

"Um... The pancakes are ready?" Alex answered sheepishly.

I went to the pan and looked at its contents. What I assumed was once a pancake was now completely blackened, something I'd only seen after having literally burnt a pancake (as in, dropped it in a fire- don't ask).

"How... How did this even happen?" I dumped the reamains of the pancake in the dustbin, and started scrubbing the pan. Fortunately, for some odd reason, it wasn't completely ruined.

"I'm sorry, I have no idea. Like, I was cooking and suddenly there was a flame, and then it was raining and you know the rest." Alex shrugged.

I shook my head. "You are hopeless."

"Well at least, now you know why Mum doesn't let me get too close to anything in the kitchen. She tried to teach me, but nothing worked." He took a misterious look before half-whispering "Oliver even says she tried black magic to erase the curse."

"Shocking!" I laughed.

He nodded dramatically. In the end, I made him breakfast (well, more like lunch at that time) to avoid the house from burning to the ground. I'm not sure Vanessa and Patrick would've appreciated it.

"Had you planned anything for this week end, apart from your sleep over?" Alex asked while washing the dishes. I made him food, he cleaned up. Seemed legit.

"Not really." I'd made myself another coffee, and was sitting on the kitchen island. "I mean, I guess I should be revising for finals, but I'm not going to spend the whole week end studying. Did you have something in mind?"

"Well Mum texted me this morning that one of my cousins is visiting this afternoon. I think I'm going to join everyone in Cambridge, you could come if you want. The house is quite big, so if you want to study you should be able to find a quiet place."