My Beautiful One

17. When in Paris

"Morning, Amari!"

I was halfway down the stairs with my hair mussed and my dressing gown on, still a little bit of a morning-zombie, and expecting just one of my classic get-up-to-find-kitchen-empty-grab-some-cereal mornings when I saw one of the strangest things I have ever witnessed.

Sebastian cooking.

He stood by the stove, holding a wooden spoon in one hand and waving cheerily at me with the other. He looked younger than usual; boyish, for the first time, with his hair sticking up every which way and various stains splattered across his white t-shirt.

I blinked. Once. Twice. Three times.

Is it just me or is Sebastian... happy?

Still a little shocked, I finished descending the stairs and meandered across the room to eventually come to a halt next to the kitchen counter. "Are you cooking?" I asked. Honestly, it just seemed like far too human a capacity for the impressive, powerful, dangerous Sebastian I had come to know.

"No, actually." He said, turning back to his bubbling pot of... something on the stove. "I'm mapping Canada." Sarcasm dripped from his tone, but for a moment I was so surprised to find that he was in fact cooking that I thought he was being sincere. But I caught on quickly, and asked him about it.

"Why?" I inquired, astounded. He looked at me like I was missing something blatantly obvious.

"I'm trying, remember?" He said, raising his eyebrows.

I peeked over Sebastian's shoulder at the contents of the pot of something he'd been attempting to make. I wasn't sure but it looked like some kind of burned, tortured scrambled egg.

"Trying to do what? Burn the place down?" I laughed. Sebastian looked sheepish for a moment, but also a little hurt.

"Well... I thought you might want a cooked breakfast."

The look on his face made my humour melt. The look in question was just so adorable that the moment I saw it, I knew I'd have to eat those eggs even if it killed me.

"You know, I'd love that." I said sincerely, keeping my face entirely straight as I took a plate and cutlery from the cupboard and got myself a portion on the stuff. My expression still tightly controlled, I took a tiny bite.

I'm pretty sure I just ate coal. I thought, cringing inside. It was absolutely revolting, but I managed to force my lips into a wobbly smile for Sebastian.

"It's..." I began, trying to find a word that summed up my feelings without hurting his. It could have been the perfect opportunity for a little revenge: crush his hopes of impressing me by giving my honest opinion in the most bitter way possible. But I didn't, and I still don't know exactly why.

"Yeah?" He looked so expectant, it made my heart melt.

"Well..."

"It's disgusting, isn't it?" Sebastian asked, his lips quirked up in a crooked smile. I was surprised to see that expression, and more than a little relieved.

"No! It's just a little..."

He laughed, and it wasn't one of his usual sarcastic chuckles. It was a strange laugh-  almost shaky, like he'd barely laughed before, but it sincere and happy and just simply human, and I thought it sounded lovely. This human side of Sebastian was a quality that I'd never really seen in him before that day.

"Don't worry about it." He snatched the plate off my lap and took the pot off the stove before dumping the whole lot in the trash. "You're a terrible liar."