Ruffled ~ H.S

Forty

"Don't you already know how to cook, Deids?" Charlie asked me.

"Not enough," I replied – holding my phone in between my ear and shoulder as I placed some dishes in the sink for rinsing later, "Harry knows way more recipes than me. It's embarrassing."

"That's because he was raised by a master chef and her husband when his own parents didn't have the time," she reminded me, "honestly, Deids, you're overthinking this whole 'wifely duties' thing. I mean...even with me and Niall – we don't even cook that much. We just get a lot of takeout."

"Well, that's you and Niall. It's different with me and Harry. And besides...I actually do want to learn a bit more cooking. It's a really handy skill to have, y'know?"

"Alright, alright. Fair enough," said Charlie, "what are you trying to cook this time, then?"

"Uh...I'm going to try and fry up some steaks. Harry's always liked a good steak."

"Oh...good luck with that," Charlie chuckled, "steak is really tricky, Deids."

"Oh gee, thanks for the words of encouragement," I rolled my eyes.

"Hey, I'm just saying. It's not easy to master steak," Charlie sounded like she was shrugging, "how are you planning to do this then? Please tell me you at least have a recipe."

"Yes, I do, thank you very much," I put my free hand on my hip, "there's been loads of glowing feedback about the steaks the chefs at the Plaza make, and since I'm the one who pays them, they had no objection to letting me borrowing their recipe."

"Oh, OK. That could turn out alright," Charlie replied, "but, I'm just warning you: I've never heard of anyone cooking a steak perfectly on their first try."

"Practice makes perfect, Char," I reminded her.

"Yeah, but...I presume you're expecting to feed these first-time steaks to Harry tonight?" asked Charlie.

"Hey, just because you've never heard of someone perfecting steak on their first try, it doesn't mean it's impossible," I argued, "anyway, I gotta go. Harry's gonna be home in a couple hours, so I'd better get started."

"Alright, Deids. Good luck," said Charlie, "I'll talk to you later."

"Yep," I nodded, "bye, Char. Thanks for calling."

"Bye, babe."

The call was ended, and I returned my attention to the steak recipe sitting on the window sill. I had to admit that I was really nervous about cooking these steaks, but Harry was more than worth the effort.

Harry & I had been married for four months already.

The rest of our honeymoon was absolutely divine. On our last night in Paris, Harry surprised me with a trip to the top floor of the Eiffel Tower, and the night-time view from all the way up there – when the whole city was so beautifully lit...it was absolutely breathtaking. I couldn't stop snapping pics, and Harry couldn't resist politely asking a worker from the champagne bar to take photos of us snuggling up together with the beautiful city sparkling behind us. And when we finally flew back home to our cozy penthouse, Harry picked me up and whisked me upstairs for the long-awaited moment of us making love in our own home for the first time as a married couple. And it seemed as if the next four months whizzed by like a comet.

One thing I've been consistently working on since we came back home, though, is teaching myself how to be a better cook. Whenever it came to cooking, Harry & I often combined our skills and whipped up something together – and despite how nice that was, I wanted to change things around a little. I wanted to be able to do the cooking without him every now and then.