Maid For Him / l.h ✔️

11

~Beyla's POV~

It was only seven AM on Monday morning when Mr. Hemmings came walking down the stairs with Kira, helping her carry her bags out to the car. She was leaving for her two week trip already.

After they had finished taking her bags out to the car they came wandering back inside, a smile on Kira's lips as she stalked towards me while I cleaned off the living room table. I gasped in surprise as she gathered me in her arms, hugging me to her chest. "Oh, I'm gonna miss you and your cooking while I'm gone, Beyla!" She pouted, squeezing me tightly. My cheek smooshed against her shoulder and I heard Mr. Hemmings chuckle in amusement from behind her. "What about me? You're not gonna miss me?" He asked playfully, teasing her.

Kira just giggled and shook her head, releasing me from her hold to turn to face him with a big smile. "Of course not." She teased back, a playful glint in her eyes. "What's there to miss?" She grinned, making him frown. Not wanting to listen to them anymore, I picked up the few pieces of trash from the living room table and then awkwardly retreated to the kitchen, throwing away the trash. The last thing I wanted to do was be around them when they were being lovey dovey with one another. It'd just be weird. I busied myself with finishing up the very few dishes in the kitchen sink, which I had used late last night when I got hungry at around twelve AM and made myself tacos.

When I finished up the dishes, I then began to clean off the counters as well, figuring that Mr. Hemmings and Kira were probably saying their goodbyes before she had to leave. Suddenly, though, a set of footsteps entered the kitchen from behind me and I knew immediately from the heavy footfalls that it was Mr. Hemmings. "Ms. Verdine." He called for me, causing me to stop and look over at him. He was leaned against the edge of one of the counters, arms crossed over his chest as he stared at me. "Yes, sir?" I asked, putting the hand towel down. I clasped my hands together in front of my thighs and he stood straight, walking over to me. "Kira just left." He noted, to which I simply just nodded.

"Would you like me to do something for you?" I asked, cocking my head to the side. "Are you hungry, maybe?" I wondered. Even though it was a little bit later than usual, I still hadn't yet made breakfast because Mr. Hemmings and Kira were both too busy getting Kira's things ready before she left.

Mr. Hemmings hummed in thought and cocked his head to the side slightly, still gazing down into my eyes. "Actually, I'm fucking starving." He answered, a little pout to his pink, plump lips. "You'll make breakfast, right?" He asked, raising a brow at me. I nodded, knowing that I didn't really have a choice here. "Of course." I smiled. "What do you want me to make for you?" I questioned, blinking up at him as I waited for him to choose. Although I didn't usually let him pick out what I made for breakfast or dinner, I figured it wouldn't hurt to let today be an exception. A moment of silence passed before he spoke. "I want some french toast and sausages." He decided, causing me to smile. "Okay! I'll make french toast and sausages, then." I agreed, beginning to get out everything I would need to make them.

To my surprise, he didn't leave as I was cooking, even though I assured him that it wasn't necessary for him to just wait until I was done. He just waved me off and waited patiently on the other side of the kitchen, leaning against the counter as he always did. When I realized that he wasn't going to listen to me, I tried my best to pay attention to cooking and not to him behind, able to feel his gaze on me still while I bustled around. It wasn't like that surprised me, though. He seemed to have a staring problem, not that I could ever find the guts to say that to his face.

Once I had finished making breakfast I looked over my shoulder and my brown eyes met his blue pair, a smile forming on my lips as I closed the oven after pulling the container of french toast out and putting it atop the stove. "It's gonna be really hot, obviously, but it's done." I announced to him, slipping the pot holders off of my hands and putting them on the counter. I had already made the sausages while the french toast had been cooking in the oven, so it was completely finished. "Smells fantastic." He muttered through a little sigh of bliss, the way he sniffed the air making me smile in amusement. There must've been something wrong with me for thinking that he looked cute when he did that.

Right as I went to leave, thinking that my job was done here and I could move on to cleaning some other part of the house, he suddenly reached out and grasped me by the wrist as I went to pass him by. I blinked and looked up at him, frowning in confusion. "Is everything okay, sir?" I asked, wondering if I had done something wrong. Maybe he wanted something else to eat now. I never could tell what this man was thinking.

"I want you to get it for me." He said, his warm fingertips lingering on my skin for a moment before he let me go. A small, confused frown sat on my lips but I just nodded my head and did as he asked, wondering why he needed me to do that. The only time I ever got his food for him was if he was upstairs and was too busy working to get it himself, but that was it. Deciding it was just best not to think too hard about it, I got him the plate of food like he wanted and wandered out of the kitchen, as he'd left already. I ended up finding him sitting at the dining room table, waiting patiently while he fiddled around on his phone. Perhaps he was playing a game or maybe texting Kira.

"Here you go, sir." I hummed, placing the plate down in front of him. I set the maple syrup beside it, unsure how much he'd have wanted on his french toast, if he wanted any at all. It was easier to have him do it. "Did you want anything to drink?" I asked, stepping back and peering down at him. He looked up at me for a brief moment, already beginning to dump some of the maple syrup on the french toast. "Yeah, I'll have some orange juice." He decided, nodding his head. I skittered back to the kitchen and got him a cup of orange juice before I returned to the dining room, placing the full cup next to his plate. "Is that all?" I wondered, knowing that I probably should start to get back to cleaning the house again.

But Mr. Hemmings shook his head.

"I'm assuming that you haven't had breakfast, Ms. Verdine?" He guessed, looking up at me with a brow raised. We both knew the answer to that question. "I haven't." I affirmed, pursing my lips. I didn't really ever have time to eat breakfast in the morning anymore, not that I minded.

"Get a plate and join me." He practically commanded, catching me off guard. I blinked stupidly at him and hesitantly shook my head, unsure if he was serious or if he was giving me some weird sort of test. "B-But I should really get back to work." I protested weakly, fiddling anxiously with my shirt. He raised a brow and smirked slightly, peering up at me. "I'm your boss, remember that, Beyla?" He hummed with a glint in his blue eyes. "Which means that I say it's okay. So go get some food and come eat." He instructed, eyeing me closely.

There was a moment of hesitance as I nibbled on my bottom lip, unsure until he gave me a look and waved dismissively at me. It seemed that he wasn't going to change his mind on this, so I didn't have much of a choice here. I sighed softly and went into the kitchen, getting myself a big plate of food that made my stomach grumble hungrily. Most mornings I didn't even notice, but I was feeling hungry today. No longer feeling unsure about sitting down for breakfast, I sauntered into the dining room and pulled out a chair a little bit away from Mr. Hemmings, setting my plate in front of me. I didn't waste any time in beginning to eat, practically shoveling it all into my mouth and inhaling it. "Seems like someone is hungry." Mr. Hemmings remarked smartly, a little smile on the edge of his lips.

I glanced up at him and licked the syrup off my bottom lip, an embarrassed blush creeping up my neck and into my cheeks. Luckily, he couldn't see it because I had on makeup. "W-Well, I don't usually eat breakfast." I mumbled, taking a bite of one of the sausages.

A frown formed on his face. "Why not? You make breakfast every day. I'm not such an asshole that I'd get mad if you took a while to eat." He said, shaking his head. I smiled slightly and dared to tease him. "But you're saying you are a little bit of an asshole?" I laughed, causing him to pause. When he just stared at me, I wondered if maybe I shouldn't have said that and my laughter quickly died out. My lips pursed awkwardly and I looked down at my plate, still feeling his intense gaze on me. "Sorry, sir." I apologized quietly, only making him frown and blink before he quickly shook his head. "Oh, no, you don't have to apologize. I'm not upset." He assured with a small smile.

"I'm just not used to seeing you smile or hearing your laugh." He confessed and gave a simple shrug of his shoulders, still looking at me. There was a passing moment of silence. "But hopefully that'll change." He added.