Academy Tales: Owen Blackbourne In Russia

Chapter 5- Explanations

Sorry everyone! I was on holiday so this chapter was delayed. I just want everyone  to know that I'm doing OLNA this term instead of natplan, so my updates will be slow as I aim to get good marks.

Also, I've only had one person give me random facts! I need more!!!!!!!! Tell meeeeeeee!!!!

Recap:
The only room left was the kitchen.
I slowly entered the kitchen, my knifes still drawn, ready for anything. But apparently I wasn't prepared enough.

The man was sitting at my dining table, scarfing down a bowl of the soup I made yesterday, holding a gun that was aimed at my head, still eating without missing his mouth, while staring straight into my eyes.....

Sang's POV:

" Damn. You've got great coordination, can you teach me how to do that?"

The man just blinked at me, while holding a spoon full of soup that was hanging in mid-air, half of the way to his mouth.

" I'm sorry about what happened before.... I'm a little clumsy, but I don't like admitting it. I'm certain i didn't get through my genetics, but there is always a small possiblity that I inherited the trait from some long lost family member that no one remembers, but oh well."

The man was still staring at me, as if afraid that I would disappear if his eyes moved from my face for a millisecond.

" Well I told you my name, but I haven't gotten yours. That's kinda rude of you, you know, not telling the host your name."

The spoon that was still in mid air began to tip.

"Oh hell no mister! You will not dirty my freshly cleaned kitchen with that soup. Put the damn spoon down or eat what's on it!"

He appeared to be in a state of shock, but my yelling seems to have woken him up a bit. He lowered the spoon back into the bowl, but didn't move the gun from where it was aimed at my head.

" Where did you get that gun anyways?" I asked, walking slowly towards the fridge.

He didn't respond, just watched my every move. I opened the fridge, and I could see him tense out if the corner of my eye, as I reached my hand inside it and pulled out a loaf of bread I had made a few days ago,( the day before the man showed up to be exact.)

"Calm down Mr Silent. I'm only getting some of my special bread. My soup is designed to be eaten with bread, not just by itself."

I grabbed the bag of bread, and walked towards him, ignoring the fact that the gun was still raised and pointed towards me.

" Here, try them together," I said, while placing the bag on the table, " it'll taste better."

He made no move to grab the bag.

I sighed.

"You think it's poisoned? Is that why you're not grabbing it?"

His eyes flickered towards the bag and then back to my face in a split second, and if I wasn't watching him so closely I probably wouldn't have seen that small movement. That gave me my answer.

"Here look." I grabbed the bag and undid the knot in the top. Taking out one of the lumps of bread, I tore off small sections from each extremity and the middle, and ate them, showing that none of the bread was poisoned, not in any section.

" See? Now eat some! You may be rather attractive, but I can assure you that if you loose to much weight you won't be as appealing to people." I said, as I shoved the bag towards him.

Ever so slowly, he reached out his hand and grabbed the bag. When it was in front of him, his nose wrinkled, as he sniffed the bag. Using the hand that wasn't holding the gun, he took out a piece of bread and gave it an experimental nibble.

" See that wasn't so bad."

His eyes narrowed a miniscule amount, and his lip curled slightly. I wasn't exactly sure, but it was almost like he was glaring at me, but at the same time he was mildly amused at my actions.

" Ok I have to complain now. I'm starting to get the tiniest bit uncomfortable with the whole aiming-a-gun-at-my-head thing... So do you think you could put it down for now? You can even have my knifes for now if that makes you feel better?"

Before he could respond, I took my gorgeous razor sharp knifes from where they were in my waist and slid them across the table towards him, in the same way I slid the bread, but instead, I sent them handle first towards him, with the blade pointing to me. The knifes stopped about an inch from the bag of bread.

" Don't ruin my knifes please, I quite like them.  I even named then.That one's called 'lucky', that one's 'deadly' and the last one is 'happy'."

" You. Named. Your. Knifes?"

I blinked in shock as the man spoke for the first time in the ten minutes we'd been in the this kitchen. He had such a nice voice too.

" You're voice is so deep, and velvety. I would love to just listen to you talk. Even if it's about something stupid like how vegetables are good for you. Oh and yeah, if course I named my knifes, who doesn't."

His mask of indifference faultered for a second, and I swore that I saw amusement and surprise flicker through his eyes.

" Actually, come to think of it, I haven't got around to naming the butcher knife and the other kitchen knifes. I should probably do that though. What do you think I should call them?"

I stared at him, from where I stood in the middle of my kitchen. He stared at me for another few seconds as if trying to read my intentions through my eyes, and then lowered the gun, placing it next to his bowl of soup.

I smiled and walked around the kitchen bench to the other side so that I would be opposite the man instead of behind him.

Ever so slowly, he ripped off a piece of bread and placed it in his mouth, following it with a mouthful of soup. He chewed and swallowed, and then cleared his throat.

" Do you normally feed strangers who hold guns aimed at your head?"

I shook my head.

" No you're the first actually. Though I wouldn't be too surprised if I have done something similar in the past.

" My name, is Owen.
Owen Blackbourne."

I smiled at him,glad to finally have a name for the man residing in my house. Owen stretched, and then grimanced. His hand moved to his side, and when it came back if was wet.

Wet with dark, red, shiny, blood.

Author's note:

Sooooo, how was it? Worth the wait?

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Do you want Owen's POV next or the Boy's POV?

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1173 words.