Under the Umbrella ✓

-23-

It was four-thirty p.m. In another thirty minutes, Aria had to be at work, but she didn't think she could leave without a guilty consciousness. It was only right for her to stick around and help him when he was injured for her, at least for the day.

Over time, Carol had warmed up to Aria through the agreement on their shifts. Aria found it easier to communicate with her now. Taking her chances on with their new level of friendship, she texted Carol to ask her if she could cover Aria's shift for today. Truth be told, she wasn't sure if Carol would agree to it, but thirty seconds later, she had her answer – an unadorned Okay! – and she didn't know if she was more staggered or thankful again.

Aria dropped her phone into her bag and glanced at him. "You haven't had lunch yet, have you?"

"I don't take lunch."

She guessed as much. The both of them wouldn't have been lounging at Coffee Break during afternoons if they were people who considered lunch for a meal.

"What do you do for dinner then?" she inquired.

"Eat out or just make something simple at home."

"Oh! I can cook for you. I'm a pretty good cook," she added with conviction.

He regarded her thoughtfully. "You don't have to."

"I want to." It really was the least she could do.

"There isn't much I have you could work with."

"Do you mind if I rummage around your kitchen?"

"Go ahead."

She got to her feet, proceeding to move to the kitchen, knowing where it was when she had taken a limited view of the house earlier until she heard a sound behind her. She looked behind her shoulder only to see him trailing after her.

He stopped when she did, just a footstep away. "Why are you following me?"

"I have nothing to do by myself for now."

"You're straining your ankle," she mumbled but didn't prevent him from tagging along with her to his kitchen.

He switched on the lights in the kitchen as she stepped in. Aria took a moment to marvel at the space and the spotlessness of the room before making a beeline to the fridge. She assumed he must have been somewhat rich to rent out a place like this but what made her second-guess the notion was the emptiness.

Be it the house, the kitchen in general, or the fridge. There was barely anything inside; there were some paper bags she figured must have had the leftovers from the days before, a few eggs, and some water bottles. The only eatable thing she could find in the freezer was a packet of fish fillets.

Keeping that in mind, she ransacked the cabinets after noticing the loaf of bread on the counter. She found two instant soup sachets, oil, and salt. There were four cabinets and only one of them had the former. She might have overlooked some other items since they were placed a little further into the cabinets. She didn't bother looking into them, mostly because she couldn't reach for them.

Sighing, she decided to try something with the fillets and eggs to make some sandwiches, taking another five minutes to search for a pan, a spatula, and plates, completely forgetting that she could ask the owner himself. All the while, Elliot sat by the counter, observing her shuffle around the kitchen.

Amongst all the moving around, she happened to catch a few glances of him, or rather of his body. Maybe the fright from earlier in the day had caused an escalation in her hormones, but it was almost too hard to turn a blind eye to the view. He didn't seem like someone who cared about his fitness or even had time to work out, but needless to say, he was in good shape.

Fortunately, she was a little more preoccupied in her thoughts on what she was trying to do with the combination of eggs and fillets rather than his physique. Not wanting to look any less in front of him after articulating that she was good at it, she tried to carry on like an expert. Even if she was willing to sacrifice her pride now, she couldn't bring herself to back out when he riveted her with hawk-like surveillance, quite intimidatingly too.