[COMPLETED]
❝Death is inevitable. It's a promise made to us at birth.❞
Arielle is a studious young woman striving to be a chef. Her life is full of going to class, reading textbooks, and hanging out with her friends, until she meets Zayn. Zayn's an...
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➳ ARIELLE'S POV
To say that today's work was a little awkward at first is a total understatement. Hayes was acting normal all day at work, and yeah, that should've made me feel more comfortable, but it totally didn't. Ignoring the situation as if it never happened was making the elephant in the room unbearably large.
Rae's been teasing Hayes about it all day, but he doesn't seem affected by it. It made me chuckle a few times and eventually the uncomfortable tension was lifted. By the end of the shift, I'd already forgotten it happened.
Hayes kept me busy all day long, practicing some new recipe that he wanted me to perfect. I thought I'd already perfected it, but maybe not up to Vinum's standards. It was frustrating, but my tenacity helped me pull through. I love cooking, I'm not giving up that easily. I've worked my fingers to the bone, I've given up many things in my life to get here, nothing's going to get in my way. Nothing will stop me from reaching my goal of one day becoming a chef.
By the end of the day, I'm exhausted, but there's still something on my mind. The kiss with Zayn two days ago has been replaying in my mind over, and over. I haven't stopped thinking about his arm and his accident. His arm is still in a sling and yet he lifted me up and pressed me against the wall, and I heard the grunt fall from his lips the instant he pulled his arm out of the sling to lift me.
The two of us were so heated that we'd both forgotten he's injured. I didn't even realize that he was probably injured until today, when I watched a co-worker hurt his own arm. And now I'm wanting to do two things—the first of which is checking that he's alright, the second is the more complex, complicated task of finding out who put his arm in the sling in the first place.
I'd almost forgotten about my goal of discovering who Zayn's attacker is. I'd made the choice a while ago to dig into his past, especially with those he works with—or worked with, I'm not sure anymore. I know that I have to start with Nyjah, because they work together, and I'm hoping that he's still willing to help me like he'd agreed to.
That's the first thing on my agenda when I walk into his house after a long day at work. He's sitting in the living room, enjoying a beer and leftover Chinese food while watching some television show about fast cars. "Hello," he greets when he hears me shuffle inside.
"Hey." Walking over to the couch, I collapse on the soft cushion the instant I'm near it. If taking a hardcore nap was a test right now, I'd ace it, but I know that I have more important things to tend to.
"How was work?" He questions, sipping on his beer while glancing at me and chuckling a little.
The food he's eating looks so good, but my legs don't want to cooperate and carry my tired body to the fridge. So, I lie there—back against the couch—staring upside down at the food on his plate.
