Alaina Clark

Chapter 7

Dean pulls his forehead away from mine; he wraps his arms around me and pulls me into a hug. My body flush against his. The ball of stress in my chest immediately starts dissolving. Elliott's approval means a lot to me because he means a lot to Dean. My breathing slows down and I begin to feel calm. I feel Dean plant a kiss on my hairline right before he pulls back. Dean looks at the clock on the kitchen wall. It reads 9:03, meaning we have plenty of time to get ready for tonight. What should I wear? How should I do my hair? Questions flood through my mind and I'm not in the mood to answer them. "We should really clean this mess." I state looking around the kitchen. A blanket of flour covers a large portion of the counter and the table, not to mention the floor. "I'll get the broom." Dean says walking towards a tiny supplies closet. I grab a small washcloth and use it to wipe the flour off of the counter and onto the floor. I watch as it pours over the edge, adding to the flour already on the floor. Repeating the action until the counter and table are flourless. Then I wet the washcloth and wipe down the counter and table, while Dean sweeps up the flour. He finishes cleaning the floor while I put the clean dishes from the dishwasher in their rightful place on the cupboard. A few minutes later the kitchen looks spotless. "So, what would you like for breakfast?" Dean asks admiring our handiwork. I take a second to think about it. Banana pancakes sound good, but so does oatmeal. "Oatmeal." I reply after a few moments. "Alright, now please sit down and enjoy the show." He says with a big smile gesturing to the stool by the kitchen table. I take a seat and place my elbows on the now spotless table, resting my chin in my hands. Watching as Dean walks around the kitchen grabbing the ingredients necessary for oatmeal. It doesn't take him long to retrieve them and soon enough he's stirring the pot of oatmeal. The sweet aroma fills the air making my mouth water. A rumble coming from my stomach reminds me how hungry I am. Lucky for me the oatmeal was almost ready. Dean's facing away from me, allowing me to admire the taut muscles of his back. Visible though the thin material of his t-shirt, smug around his back. He turns around to face me, cutting off my view. I can't say I mind, this view is much better. His dark hair is combed back, indicating he just ran his hand through it. The lighting in the kitchen makes his eyes seem remarkably radiant. Light scruff dusted across the sharp line of his jaw, meaning he hasn't shaved in a few days. "What would you like to drink?" He asks, drawing my attention back to his eyes. "Hmm, I don't know. Surprise me." I say wiggling my eyebrows at him. "Alright then, but you're going to have to close your eyes." He says with a mischievous glint in his eyes, a matching smirk on his lips. I let out an exasperated sigh and roll my eyes before covering them with the palms of my hands. All I can do is listen as he moves around the kitchen doing God know what. A sudden noise startles me, it sounds like whining and grinding. He's using the blender, this better be good. If I'm being totally honest, anything Dean makes is good. I'm still surprised that I'm the only one he cooks for (other than his mom that is). I find the thought tremendously satisfying. I'm the only one he prepares a mouthwatering meals for. Dean makes all of those perfect dishes exclusively of me. It make me feel special. He makes me feel special. At home Elizabeth was the unique one, she was the golden goose. The fact the we were twins made me feel like I had certain expectations to live up to. I've never felt like that with Dean. Dean makes me feel... perfect. Despite the fact that I'm far from perfect, when I'm with Dean all of my flaws disappear. It's an insane thought, me flawless. But that's how he makes me feel. A loud clink in front of me makes me slightly jump as the noise draws me out of my thoughts. "Open your eyes Sparkles." Dean says proudly. Pulling my hands away from my face, I comply. A glass cup is placed directly if front of me. Chocolaty, thick, creamy liquid fills the cup to it's brim. It's a banana and chocolate milkshake, my favorite. I wide smile immediately tugs on my lips, I make delicious milkshakes but nobody makes them better than Dean. I don't know what he does to them that makes them so scrumptious, but he does it, and he does it good. Looking up from the milkshake I see Dean with an equally wide grin. "Thank you Dean." I beam. "Anything for you Sparkles." He replies with a wink. He turns around and picks up a bowl from the counter, placing it in front of me. "Careful, it's hot." He warns raising his eyebrows at me. I roll my eyes at him even though I find it amusing when he treats me like a child. "Yes Dad." I reply, my voice covered in sarcasm. Now it's his turn to roll his eyes. "Don't call me that." He mumbles as he retrieves his own breakfast, identical to mine. I smirk, knowing that I've hit a nerve. He hates it when I call him dad, it makes him feel old or something like that. I do it just to push his buttons. He will retaliate though. He is the great Dean Miller after all. He will probably call me mom, because it has the same effect on me as it does on him when I call him dad. I hate it, with a passion. "Now eat." He demands holding out a shiny sliver spoon. Extending my hand towards him, I take it. Immediately digging into the oatmeal, completely ignoring Dean's warning about it being hot. Then immediately regretting it. Forcing myself to swallow the hot thick liquid, it burned all the way down my throat. Breathing through my mouth, muttering "Hot." over and over again while using my hands to frantically blow air on my face in an attempt to cool down. Dean watched me with an amused smile, but I could see a hint if concern in his eyes. "Always so stubborn." He muttered while shaking his head and extend his hand to reach for my cup, placing it in my hand. "Here, drink." He said as I brought the cup to my mouth. The cold sweet liquid easing the burn down my throat. We finished our breakfast like we usually do. Me moaning around the spoon, praising Dean's skills in the kitchen. While Dean made inappropriate comments about me sounding like a porn star. Eventually we placed the dirty dishes in the dishwasher and headed to my house. I unlocked the door to the empty house, seeing as my parents are both at work by now. We head upstairs to my room, Dean collapsing onto my bed. "Are you going to help me pick my outfit for tonight? Or would you rather take a nap?" I ask standing at the foot of my bed with my arms crossed across my chest. "As amazing as a nap sounds, I want to help you pick your outfit." He replies as he sits up on his elbows. "Alright then let's get to it." I state clapping my hands together. I can not wait to get this night over with.