The Masked Truth

Chapter Eleven

Decided to challange myself to write 50K words for TMT for Nano instead of starting something new. Not edited, but it's a second update :) Thoughts of Alex now?

Chapter Eleven

As the movie credits roll onto the screen, my heart floats back and forth with uneasiness. I was hoping in-between movies I'd hackle down my feelings and find a point to divide them, but with the devastating scene happening on the screen, it felt like my heart strings where being yanked all over the place.

Warm lips press against my cheek tenderly, which makes me snap out my bubble of thought.

"What are you thinking about?" he asks.

Shaking my head, I meet his eye contact and say, "Nothing."

"Do you want to order food in or cook something?" he asks.

"Cook?" I offer.

There's plenty of food sitting in the cupboard and fridge for us to eat, honestly. Ava forced me to go food shopping when I first got back to New York. She even made a special visit to my apartment to ensure I'd brought enough healthy food so I wouldn't waste away until my next big career move. I half expect my parents were behind her visit to check on my welfare.

If I hand of made this career, I'd be closer to home and not living independently in a restless city like I am now. The perks of being famous meant they could easily track me down with the photographer's constant diary of my life, and I wouldn't get into any financial trouble, well, not yet. I don't have an eye for expensive things or a reckless behaviour like throwing money out the window.

"What are you hungry for?"

"Something Asian, stir-fry?" I suggest.

"You read my mind beautifully," he sings off key.

I untangle myself from the blanket and move myself off Alex's lap. He stands to his feet, then offers me a hand. I greatly accept the gesture as I climb to my own two feet.

"Thank you." I smile.

I start packing away the blankets while Alex walks over to the fridge so start gathering ingredients. I see a small pile of an assortment of vegetables piling up on the counter. Once he's gathered everything he wants, he grabs a chopping board, knife and the wok which is stored under the kitchen sink.

"Want some help?" I offer.

I see Alex's eyes filter across to my latest inspiration wall, then back down to the chopping board in front of him.

"I want to make you dinner," he says, "how about you play me some music?" he offers.

"I'm not a singing machine." I pout.

"I'm just curious about your music, is that so bad?" he asks.

From the tone of Alex's voice, it sends my stomach slicking with guilt. I feel bad for snapping at Alex, that wasn't very nice of me.

"Sorry."

"Truth be told, I'm just curious about what you've been up to for the last couple of days. You've been rather mysterious." The conversation falls silent and all you can hear is the sound of his knife tapping against the glass chopping board.

"Just my music?" I ask.

"Fine." He huffs with annoyance, "how is the dress coming along?" A small pout filters onto Alex's face, which melts my heart.

"Secret." I wink.

"Ava has been bugging me about having a fitting done from my tux, but I haven't been bothered. She won't even tell me the colour you've decided," he explains.