Caught In The Mission

Seventeen

The next morning I woke shocked and confused for a number of reasons.

1- I had actually managed to fall asleep.
2- My duvet was covering me.
3- There was a bright beam of light shining through the window suggesting it was late morning early afternoon.
4- I was alone, Alex was nowhere to be found.

I didn't remember falling asleep last night, I remembered laughing at Alex's crude joke then watching tv as he fell asleep. I do remember however that I used my throw as a blanket and not my duvet that was supposedly upstairs in my room. Someone must have brought it down, did Alex do it? And speaking of Alex where was he? Did he go work after all? I thought to myself as I sat up on the sofa. I was grateful in that moment that HQ got us comfy sofas otherwise I would be complaining nonstop of a bad back.

I threw the covers off me and stood up, stretching before making my way to the kitchen. The house was silent except for the kitchen, the sound of humming and rattling pots on the stove. I walked in to a very interesting sight, one I wasn't accustomed to at this time in the morning. Alex was stood with his back towards me over the stove. He was cooking. We had been in this house for a while now and never have I seen Alex cook anything. I silently walked to the island table, leaning my side on it as my eyes fixated on the his back. Fortunately for my eyes he was shirtless so his toned back was on full display to me. My eyes followed every curve of his muscles as he moved, they stopped at the two scars he had. One just under his right shoulder blade and another just over his waistline. They were round suggesting bullet wounds. We never really spoke about our injuries, in fact we never really spoke in a civil manner to one another that much.

As I stared at the man in front of me I wondered whether this warm feeling I was experiencing was down to the weird atmosphere that filled this house lately or if it was down to the hangover I was expecting to hit soon. I was 89% sure it wasn't the latter and it had something to do with this house having me and Alex in it.

"Oh she's up?" Alex said breaking me from my thoughts. I pushed myself away from the island straightening my stance. I hadn't noticed him turn around, I prayed he didn't watch me standing there staring at him.

"Yeah, I just got up." I responded whipping a hair behind my ear. All hope of not being caught staring were crushed when he let out a chuckle before turning around to reduce the heating of the stove. "What?" I asked even though I knew the answer. He shook his head, resuming his cooking task, leaving me to gawp at his back again. There was something about the way his arms moved that made everything look so calm and easy. 

"Are you staring again?" He said moving. I blinked looking down to the fruit bowl in front of me.

"What?...no" I replied grabbing a bright red apple. He turned around, spatula in hand, hard chest and abs on full display. It took all my might not to look down at them. We locked eyes he smirked at me, clearly amused at this mornings encounter. "Why do you think I'm staring?"

At first he didn't say anything but look, it was as if we were having a stare down. "I felt your eyes burning through my shoulders."

"I don't know what you're on about." I said taking a bite of my apple. It let off a loud crunch noise as I bit it followed by a small trail of juice rolling  down the side of my lips. My eyes still locked on his I reached down and wiped it off his eyes left mine following my hand movement, it may have been my sleep eyes still in active mode but I was sure I saw his jaw twitch. "What are you cooking." I attempting to catch a glance at the food that was behind him. He moved to the side block my view.

"Food."

"No shit, what food?"

"It's a surprise." A surprise? For me? In my 23 years of living no one had made me a surprise breakfast, and never in a million years would I have thought it would Alex that would be making me said surprise breakfast. It smelt good, whatever he was making. I just wanted to put a face to the small but he wouldn't let me, he pointed at the stools by the island bench then turned around, proceeding with his cooking.