Addicted to the Alpha (editing)

Chapter 7- Never Have I Ever

Quick A/N: sorry about the long wait, I've had some major writer's block with this! But I figured this chapter would bring the characters "closer" in a way, so I hope you enjoy :)

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* Chapter 7- Never Have I Ever *

I sighed loudly, slamming the bathroom door shut behind me. Ever since the night I got pizza with Dean, he hasn't left my side.

Every time I go downstairs, he asks if I am hungry. When I wake up and go downstairs to greet him, he asks if my head feels alright. He's reminding me of a dog that is really attached to its owner.

At times, it was very amusing and would make me laugh. Of course, he found it strange but if he felt what I did, he would most likely laugh as well.

"Be careful not to fall in there, it gets slippery! Do you want a mat for the floor?" Dean asked through the door. I rolled my eyes, taking a towel from the closet.

"I'm fine, I've showered in here many times I'm used to it!" I shouted back, turning the tap on. I heard his heavy footsteps trot down the hallway, finally leaving me be.

I stripped of the pajamas Dean's sister had lent me, stepping in the warm shower. I can't believe his sister would lend a stranger clothes. She must be an extremely nice person, and it's a shame I wasn't awake at the time she stopped by.

I lathered the fruity shampoo in my hair, making sure to get all the flour out of it. You see, about 20 minutes ago, Dean was trying to make a nice gesture by making pancakes. Unfortunately, it didn't turn out so well.

Flashback

I was in a peaceful slumber, abruptly awoken by the strong aroma of smoke. I shot out of bed and ran downstairs, thinking the worst.

I nearly fell down the stairs, rushing to get to the kitchen as quickly as possible. But when I poked my head around the corner, I was not met by fire burning around the kitchen.

I was met by a shirtless Dean, who was standing over the stove trying to flip an extremely burnt pancake out of the pan.

Swear words fumbled out of his mouth, the frustration visible on his face.

He was using brute force on that pancake, trying to flip it but it was hopeless. It wasn't going to budge, and Dean knew it.

A laugh escaped my mouth, causing him to turn to me immediately. His face turned bright red; his jaw locking in place.

"Need some help?" I asked, already walking by his side. He took a step back, allowing me to be in control. I took the pan off of the stove and turned it off, allowing it to cool before trying again.

I got a spatula and peeled the burnt pancake off, throwing it in the trash. By this point, Dean was utterly embarrassed and left the room. I cleaned up the mess he had made earlier, leaving space for him and I to make a new batch of pancakes. I poured some of the batter onto the pan, calling Dean back into the kitchen.

His eyes were glued to the floor. He didn't look up even when I talked to him, making the urge to laugh at him even harder to control.

"See, you forgot to put oil in the pan before you put the pancake in, that was it. Everything else was perfect; don't worry about it", I said, trying to enlighten him.

When his eyes finally met mine, he looked embarrassed. His cheeks turned a pink color before his head turned back down to the floor. He sighed before pushing me to the side and flipping the pancake to the other side so it would cook evenly. We stood there in silence until Dean reached over and grabbed flour from the bag, filling his hand up with it. I looked over at him confused before a devious smirk plastered his face.