White Cloud

18- You Won't Break My Heart

I wear a dress when I drive to Vincent's apartment the next night. It's not a fancy dress but I want to look just a little bit nice because Vincent said that he'd be cooking dinner (which sounds like a disaster but also really romantic) so I want to look a little nice. It's a peach sundress that's kind of short with spaghetti straps and I'm wearing flat sandals with it. My outfit of choice has nothing to do with the fact that I'm really hoping that tonight will be full of a lot of making out.

When I find the right building, I park in the long parking lot and make sure that my long, braided hair looks alright. I did my makeup in five minutes so I didn't do too much, just some mascara and a little bit of lip stick. With a deep breath, I get out of the car and head into the building to find Vincent's apartment number that he'd texted to me earlier.

Knocking on the right door, I only wait a few moments before he's answering the door wearing a t-shirt (inside out, of course) and jeans with a dazzling grin on his face. "Welcome to my humble abode."

"Why, thank you," I say jokingly as I walk into the apartment and Vincent shuts the door behind me. It's a small apartment consisting of only three rooms. There's an open space with a small kitchen to the right and a living room to the left and then off of the living room, I can see an open door leading into a bedroom and then a closed door that I assume to be a bathroom. "This is a lot cleaner than I was expecting."

"That hurts my feelings," He jokes, passing me to go back to the kitchen area to continue cooking whatever it is that he's cooking. It smells like rosemary, which is one of my favorite smells ever so I really appreciate that. As he passes me though, he leans over and kisses my cheek. "You look beautiful, by the way."

"I did try to clean up a little bit," I admit. "What are you making?"

"I have absolutely no idea," He admits. "I just kind of threw some stuff into some pans and I hoped for the best."

"You're going to give me food poisoning," I say with a small laugh.

"No, it won't be that bad," He defends. "Come on, it smells delicious."

"It does," I confirm. On the pan in front of Vincent, there are two chicken breasts being cooked in some rosemary, lemon, and some sauce that is probably made up by the boy standing next to me. I see a bowl of microwavable mashed potatoes beside the counter already cooked and ready to go. "It looks really good too just don't burn the chicken or it'll be dry."

"I don't want it to be raw though," Vincent says. "Because that'd really give you food poisoning. I don't know how to cook but I do know that much."

"Just cut into one of them," I suggest, getting a knife from his drying rack and moving over to stand next to him by the stove. I cut into the center of one of the breasts and it looks like it's done. I don't know that much about cooking either but when I was little, I'd help my mom cook dinner sometimes and I remember how she'd cook chicken by making sure that it wasn't raw or overcooked. "It's perfect."

"My savior," He jokes dryly as he turns the stove off and moves the pan to another burner so that it doesn't keep cooking. "What would you like to drink?"

"What do you have?"

"Um, sink water, Pepsi, and beer," He says, looking in the fridge.

"I'll take a Pepsi," I request. "Aren't you only twenty?"

"Yes," He confirms. "I've got my ways though, Bea. I'm not an alcoholic or anything, it's more of a special occasion type of thing. Anyway, chicken and mashed potatoes is served. Be prepared to be wowed by my amazing cooking abilities."