Black

XXXIV

It was a half an hour past ten when the sound of the flat's door opened and closed, indicating his arrival.

I looked at the table that had various, yet simple, breakfast dishes.

That moment when you are not good with words, so you head to another thing that you are even worse at.

It wasn't until a half an hour ago when I decided I'd actually do something for him, not wanting to admit that he was right by apologizing. He could just take this as a makeup act.

As I heard his footsteps echo throughout the place, I started moving around the kitchen, not knowing what was I supposed to do as my heart pace sped up, while I felt Zoella's eyes move with me from where she sat on the counter. I walked to the table and acted like I was arranging the utensils as he came into view.

He cleared his throat, announcing that he came back. I lifted my head to meet his eyes. He looked...

....like he needed a good hour in the shower. His face glowed with sweat as it acted as a highlighter on his cheekbones, his hair sticking to his forehead.

He walked from behind the island, giving me a good look of his white tank top that showed every line of his chest. I shifted my gaze back to his eyes immediately.

"Hey," I said awkwardly, feeling like I could suffocate under the silence.

His eyes fell on the table as he sighed then looked back at me, "Morning. I will take a quick shower and come back."

I nodded, sitting on one of the chairs as he left to the bathroom.

Surprisingly, when I looked out of the window this morning, the sun was out and the sky was clear. I got up, my legs dragging me to the balcony that let through the bright sun rays.

On such days, you would usually find me outside with my sketchbook as I inspected the people passing by, creating a story for them by how they looked and then painting it.

I moved my eyes along the street, finding it empty—it was a quiet neighborhood, but if you listened closely, you could hear the soft honking coming from the busy streets. I zoomed back to the world, catching Zoe's reflection on the glass from her place on the counter as she sniffed something from an oval-shaped jar lazily.

"Zoella, what are you doing?" I asked, turning around in order to look at her clearly.

She opened her eyes, "Smelling this," she said in a matter-of-fact tone like what she was doing was as normal as reading a book. "The teacher told us to smell as many things as we could and try to know what it is," she explained. "This sugar."

I looked back at the container she held close to her, recognizing it. I shook my head, making my way towards her, "No, Monkey, this is salt, not sugar."

She pouted and sniffed its contents again, "No! It's sugar." I took the jar from her and looked inside.

"Oh god." I groaned and headed to the table, taking the omelet in my plate and cutting a piece before biting into it. I stuck my tongue out, trying not to throw up, "Oh god!"

This is exactly why I shouldn't be allowed in this damned area of the house.

I spat the food into the trash and walked to the tap, rinsing my mouth from the sugary tasting omelet, before taking quick steps to the plates to try and fix what I screwed up.

......and of course, Harry came out of the bathroom a minute later in new clothes and walked towards us.

"Oh god," I muttered.

He walked past me to the fridge, getting out a bottle of water and drinking it, whilst looking at Zoella. I turned to the food, what exactly is someone supposed to do in such situation?