salvia. [h.s. AU]

Chapter Eleven

Maria Eduarda

When I first agreed to cook for 40 people at a party, I was completely losing my shit, truly panicking over every little detail that could go wrong, obsessing about every single way I could ruin the night wrecking the whole party.

I thought I could mistake the salt for sugar and turn the main dish into the most awful, literally fishy dessert ever.

I thought I could forget something in the oven and end up serving little pieces of carbon instead of shrimp.

I even entertained the possibility of every single hair I have on my head would fall off and mix with the food I was supposed to make.

But none of that happened.

Instead, I managed to cook an obscene amount of two of my favorite Brazilian dishes, almost to perfection - of course there's always room for improvement, but I've just tasted the vegetarian moqueca and it's as good as it can get.

Which is surprising, considering how heavy my heart felt while I was doing all of this.

Guess all the nights I've spent in my kitchen back home, cooking to distract my rushing mind, were actually a good practice - because tonight I've managed to concentrate on what I was cooking instead of giving attention to the crashing pain in my soul.

But now that I've helped serve the food into lots of little bowls and washed all the dishes, I can feel the thoughts and sensations I've been avoiding all night creeping back to my conscience.

I don't even know why I'm so bummed. I mean, of course, what Mrs. Styles told me is sad as fuck, I really feel for Harry and the pain he went and is still going through. No one deserves it, especially such a young guy like him. I feel for him and for his passed girlfriend, Meredith, what happened to her and to them was a tragedy. What doesn't make sense is how I'm feeling about the other thing.

The you remind me of her thing.

I mean, I shouldn't really be surprised, even if I didn't know who this her is - was -, it's pretty obvious if I remind him of someone, he is not around because of me. He is not attracted to me, at all, and the only reason why he keeps trying to make conversation with me and is always around is because he probably feels closer to her. It's like I'm just a way for him to pretend she is still around.

It has never been about me.

Maybe this explains why he acted so weird last Monday and kept avoiding me the whole week, maybe he remembered what he said to me at Club Liquid and was mortified about it - as he should be. Honestly, who the fuck does that? Tell people they remind them of someone else? This is not polite!

Ugh, I just wanna go home and cuddle with my pillow till I fall asleep.

But first I need to find Mrs. Styles and make sure everything is OK so I can leave, I can't simply go without saying goodbye and thanking her again for the opportunity - I loved the experience of cooking so much food all at once and also, what she is paying me for tonight only is almost what Housekeeping Inc. pays me for a month of cleaning this house.

So, taking a deep breath, I take the hair net out of my head and pull my hair down - it was a bit humid when I tied it to a bun so now it has nice waves cascading down my back, which is not the least important right now but it makes me feel slightly better either way. I'm still wearing the white uniform as I step out of the kitchen, and the moment I do it I almost bump into someone else.

"I'm sor--" The apologies get lost in my mouth as I realise what I've just bumped into - Chloe, drunkenly giggling with her red lipstick all smeared around her mouth. She doesn't even notice me, her eyes glued to the guy who is following her closely, their hands intertwined and his lips just as stained with red lipstick as hers.