Garin got up the next morning to the sound of pans clanging around in the kitchen. Evidently, Nadia was already awake. With a groan, he rolled out of the bed and pulled on his pants, though he couldn’t seem to find his shirt he’d worn the day before. Too tired to think any more about it, he drug his feet to the wardrobe near the window, and opened it to find… nothing. No shirts, or even an extra pair of pants. Had he actually exhausted all of his clean clothes? If that was the case, wouldn’t his dirty clothes still be in the pile he’d made by his bed? He searched every chest and crevice in his room until he was certain that there really were no other clothes in his room other than the pants he’d worn the day before. They still had blood stains on them, but so did many of his pants. It wasn’t an abnormal thing.
Resigning himself to stepping out of his room only partially dressed, Garin crossed the room and opened the door, quickly walking into the kitchen where he found the creator of the noise.
“Nadia.”
“Oh, you’re awa-” She paused mid-sentence when she turned around, and it made Garin feel slightly uncomfortable when she looked him up and down. “Why are their bruises all over your chest?”
Garin’s mind flashed back to Kida’s mother punching and hitting his chest with her fists. It was fairly uncomfortable. “It doesn’t matter, where are my clothes?”
“Hmm…? Oh!! They’re out on the line… I’m sorry for sneaking in your room this morning, but I felt it would be a good idea to wash them. They’re not dry yet though, I just checked.”
“I see… what are you doing now?” He nodded toward the pans she held in her hand, and a bright red flush rose her cheeks. “I was… about to make breakfast because you weren’t up yet…”
He sighed heavily and nodded his understanding, rubbing his brow in contemplation. “I suppose you still want to learn to cook… and you’ll use any means necessary to achieve that end?”
Nadia nodded slowly, her eyes locked on to his as though she were trying to figure out what he would do before he told her. He tore his eyes away from hers, weighing the consequences of helping her learn to cook. It would certainly be helpful on a night he came home late and wanted to eat something other than a sandwich… since she seemed determined to have dinner made before he got home. He also couldn’t deny that it was nice to come home to food, instead of coming home to ingredients.
“Get the pan slightly smaller than the one in your right hand. I’ll teach you how to make breakfast. First, you’ll learn how to fry an egg.” He said, watching Nadia’s expression light up with excitement. She hurriedly put the other cooking pots and pans away, then grinned broadly.
“What next?” She asked, her pitchy voice full of excitement.
“Well,” Garin leaned around her to retrieve the spatula, and held it up to show her. “This, is your friend.” He set it aside, and placed an egg in her hand. “Do you already know how to crack an egg?”
“That much I can do.” Nadia replied with a smile as she tapped the egg against the pan a couple of times. Then with both hands she pulled it apart and without breaking the yolk, it fell into the pan. With the pan buttered and ready for cooking, Garin began to guide her hands with her holding the spatula.
