The Heir (on-hold)

10. Cook

Everest Hills
Aryn's Apartment
Present

ARYN

Meet me @ 11 am for the project.

He didn't even ask. He simply demanded. And it was 10:45.

Sending a quick text to Lily, I informed Lucy that I needed to leave her for a while.

Not long after, my backpack was draped around my shoulders with my feet tapping impatiently on the floor of the front door as I have already ringed the doorbell. A werewolf would have heard the ringing sound but judging by the time and the faint snores, they weren't morning people on Saturdays.

To my delight, the creaking footsteps against wooden stairs rang in my ears and almost immediately, the door's lock clicked. This soon revealed a casually-attired glowering man with an impassive look on his perfectly carved face.

My eyes wandered to his body and he was simply wearing a printed t-shirt with the Star of David right at the right portion of his heaving chest.

He seemed to notice my stare as he cleared his throat and when my gaze averted to his face, there he was looking at me amusingly before it quickly became a frown.

"If you're done eating me with your eyes, then you may enter. I don't have all day." He harshly said but based on the tone of his voice and the glint in his eyes, it was all an act.

The moment I stepped into the house, my stomach growled for everyone to hear, causing A.T. to snap his head in my direction. I wasn't embarrassed. I simply gave him a full-on grin as a remark and tribute to his words earlier. "As a matter of fact, I'm still hungry considering you basically demanded me to come here before I could even eat breakfast."

"Who eats breakfast at 11?" He muttered under his breath as he closed the front door and walked passed me.

"Apparently, me." I retorted. He groaned in annoyance and took my arm by the side and pulled me with him. "Where are we going?" I asked when I noticed we weren't headed to his room.

"Kitchen. We're having brunch."

I didn't say anything after that. The kitchen was big and contained at least every single thing you needed to cook and even bake. There were 4 silver refrigerators and at least, 4 stoves, and 3 baking ovens.

I didn't even have a baking oven at the apartment and this house owned 3.

There was a counter at one of the corners and I hoisted myself up on one of the high chairs when A.T. walked around a room. I watched him take cooking appliances and place them in their respective places. Then he headed to the first refrigerator and pushed around frozen meat before he found what he was looking for. They sure have a lot of meat piles.

"Do you like fish or chicken?" I almost jumped at the sound of his voice.

"I'm allergic to chicken," I answered. So he's cooking for me?

"Stuffed fish should be fine." He concluded without asking my opinion. I was alright with his suggestion. After all, he was cooking food for me in his home. Who was I to object?

"Do you need help?" I suggested, in which I heard no response. I pursed my lips in a thin line and swung my legs in boredom. My fingers began tapping the counter as I looked at the fish he was threading. Once he was done, he placed it on the pan along with 3 others.

I could detect the scent of the fish as it was being heated and it made my stomach churn even more than it did and this time, my cheeks heated knowing he would have heard it.