Lethal Obsession

5.

 Your soulmate can also be your downfall.
― Guillaume Musso

When you stop fighting, that's death.

― John Wayne

Man's courage is reflected in his ability to bear the truth.

― Guillaume Musso

Sometimes only when leaving the scene you realize what your role was.

― Stanisław Jerzy Lec

Chapter 5

His consent made me so happy, people would think that I had inherited a million dollars from my long lost cousin. However, they just didn't understand how big of a problem it was when you can't cook to save your life. Over the years, I got so many odd stares when someone discovers my inability that I got used to it, it didn't even bother me anymore. I tried to do my best, I really did, but I quickly realized that the best thing I could do was to stay out of the kitchen. A few times I, maybe, almost caused a fire. Despite that, I was able to make pasta that tasted good, a bit overcooked, but good nevertheless.

I noticed that he was constantly opening and closing his mouth while we were in the kitchen. He was probably telling me what we were supposed to do, although I wasn't really sure, I was too distracted by his lips. It was a matter of time when I would start drooling, which would be so embarrassing, I would rather die right then and there.

Slowly, I started lowering my eyes so I could sneak a glance at the bottom part of his body. Dressed in his usual outfit, he looked like sin. Blank, black shirt stuck to his body like a second skin. This time I had a chance to confirm my suspicion that his body had plenty of tattoos. There almost was no place on his arms and collarbone (that was exposed) that wasn't covered by ink. Usually, tattoos meant something, however, I wasn't sure if that was the case with Mateo's too. He had too many to count, let alone connect to something, and I hadn't even seen most of them. However, one thing is certain, his tattoos made him even darker and more mysterious than he already was.

"Tara!" the sound of my name startled me. I needed a moment to realize what was going on. I raised my eyes and noticed that he had already had his arrogant smirk plastered on his annoyingly beautiful face. I blushed when I realized that he must've understood that I was checking him out. Better yet, I was undressing him with my eyes, which was even worse.

"Are you even listening to me?" I frowned and scrunched my eyebrows together. He asked that on purpose only so I would feel even more embarrassed. He knew perfectly well that I had no idea what he was talking about.

"You wanted me to borrow your apron?" I looked at him with my innocent eyes, rapidly blinking, which only made him roll his. I was actually curious how he would look in the apron, though. In fact, I had already imagined him in my head, wearing nothing but my hot pink one. I had a sudden urge to lick my lips, however, before I could zone off again, I concentrated on him, trying to understand what he was saying.

"Why don't you put some flour in a bowl and I will prepare everything else?" he asked me. I nodded my head.

I can do it, that shouldn't be hard, right?

I said that way too quickly. Before I could even realize what was happening, I dropped the flour. The kitchen was a mess. The sight of a completely white floor would probably even look aesthetic had it not been for the simple fact that I was the one who would have to clean it up later on.

I looked at Mateo biting my lips, not sure of what to say. He had already had his eyes set on me and he didn't look very pleased.

"You had one job." he pointed out and shook his head in disbelief. I wondered if it would help my case if I acted like my apartment was hunted by ghosts. To be fair, no one could claim that they have never existed.