Be Alright

Nine

Nine: Burn

The smell of burning eggs caught my attention and I looked up to see the pan I had just poured the egg mixture into light up into flames. The fire and eggs sizzled and I knew I had to have woke Tyler up.

Moving from my seat to around the kitchen island, I frantically start beating the fire with a dish towel. My snacks weren't doing anything to the fire, and I began to panic.

I just had the best sex of my life last night and now here I am setting his house on fire.

The handle of the pan is hot, but I grab it anyways as I hurriedly throw the pan in the sink and turn the water on. The fire goes out, but steam and smoke has filled the kitchen, making it smell awful.

"What is that smell?" Tyler's groggy voice says as he walks into the kitchen.

I turn to look at him. He's standing in the door way to the kitchen wearing the same sweatpants he was wearing last night. This time he came with no shirt, and seeing his body bare like that made me think of last night. His hair is messier than usual and I take a sense of pride knowing I am the reason for it.

It takes Tyler only seconds to realize what I had done as he looks around the kitchen, taking in the smokey haze that has been created. The entire kitchen was engulfed in it, and I was surprised the smoke alarms hadn't gone off.

Instead of being mad at me like I had figured, Tyler smiles and walks over to me, wrapping his arms around my waist. Slightly confused, I wrap mine around him and lean my head on his chest.

"As much as I love the idea of you cooking breakfast for me, I'd much rather keep my house," He laughs, placing his chin on top of my head.

I scoff and push him off of me, but the smile never leaves his face.

"I tried really hard. I don't know where I went wrong," I whine, looking over at the stove where the eggs were just cooking at.

"Well, for starters, you have the heat up way too high," he tells me, turning the silver knob on the stove around until it clicked, signaling the stove was off.

I sigh and rub my temples with the tips of my fingers. Maybe cooking wasn't for me after all.

"I thought that if I made it hotter it would cook faster," I confess to him.

Tyler laughs at me and grabs another pan out of the cabinet. I watch as he places it on the burner I had previously been using and turns the heat only half way to what I had earlier.

"Scrambled or fried?" He asks.

"Scrambled," I say.

"Disgusting."

Tyler turns his back to me once again and grabs the eggs I had sitting out. I hear the eggs shells crack and the sloshing sound of the eggs being beaten into the bowl.

The sight of Tyler's back draws my attention and I squint at the red marks down the edges of his back. I walk towards him and reach my hand out, letting my finger tips trace over the scratches that were fresh and new.

Tyler shivers as my finger tips brush his skin and the scratches. He doesn't stop what he's doing, though, and continues to pour the egg mixture into the pan.

"Do these hurt?" I ask, looking at them.

They weren't deep and from the looks of them, they didn't bleed any. His skin was definitely agitated from it. Even though he had an olive skin tone, the red still stood out greatly.