Chapter 20: Chapter Twenty

That morning I took a long hot shower and turned back to hurry up the stairs. Unfortunately Ian stood in my way and held his arm out in front of the stairs, blocking my way. "Oi, let me through." I said, looking up at him. "No. Kitchen, now. I'm doing you breakfast."

"Why?"

"Aren't you hungry?" He asked and tilted his head, his eyes a piercing chocolate brown. "I don't really eat in the mornings." I muttered and looked down at the ground. I suddenly felt like a small child. I didn't even know what breakfast was. I heard the bare confusion in his voice. "You don't have breakfast? You've never had breakfast?" I shake my head. "Never?" He asked. "No." I muttered and sighed. "Does it really matter? It's just breakfast for fuck sake. Now, let me go upstairs and change!"

"You are changed, Alice." He was right I was.

"Yeah, well I need an excuse to get away from you!" I snapped and smacked at his outstretched arm which blocked me from approaching the stairs. "Come on, Alice. Just let me cook you a nice breakfast." His eyes were soft and pleading.

"Ok, whatever. What are you going to cook me then?" I challenged, leaning my palms on my hips. Ian smiled down at me, his eyes dancing with excitement. I could tell he had something exciting installed. "Follow me." He gestured for me to follow him out of the hallway and through the front room, leading into the kitchen. I followed him through and he walked over to the cooker. He seemed amazingly swift in the kitchen, he was very skilful in cooking and it took him no longer than thirty minutes to prep something up.

I bet anyone would love to have him as a husband. Especially when he is so skilled in the kitchen. A very nice and modern kitchen, may I add.

I sat at the kitchen table, settling down on one of the high stool and watched him get to work. He was swift and quick about it all. He obviously knew what he was doing and I didn't say a word to interrupt his focus. He was concentrating very hard on the cooker and I could tell by his expression that he wanted it to turn out perfectly. Perfect was never to be found in my dictionary. Typical me. Non-believer.

"Mangia!" I heard a foreign voice sing cheerfully. I look up in mid thought, who was that? It was Ian. So he had now turned foreign? He stood there holding a medium sized plate with was square potato looking things on. Chocolate had been melted over it and it surprisingly looked really nice. "What's that?"

"Woffles." He answered. "With hot melted chocolate sauce over it." He placed it on the kitchen bar in front of me. I looked down at it hesitantly and began poking at it with my folk.

"Non guadare cosi paura, Alice." He whispered in a husky tone. I looked up, his eyes were looking at me with intensity. "W-what?" I stammered as the foreign voice made butterflies in my stomach begin to flap. He smirked and licked his lips, "Sorry, I forgot. I speak Italian." He informed me as if it was such a normal thing to say. I look at him with a stunned expression, "And you've only just realised that?" I asked. Ian ignored my sarcastic question and reached out to push my chin up. I suddenly realised my jaw was hanging open in shock due to his foreign voice. "How comes you can say foreign shit like that and not realise you're saying it?" I asked as I slapped his hand way from under my chin.

"I did realise I was saying it. I just forgot that I was saying it to someone who possibly doesn't know Italian." He smiled a wicked smile and winked cheekily at me. I stabbed at the world again with my folk and tore a small piece of it off, serving it into my mouth. "I don't get you. You're a English teacher, not a foreign waiter!"

He chuckled and rubbed his left eye as if he was about to cry out of laughter. Wow, I really did make him laugh that hard. "I'm serious. Why do you speak Italian when you teach English? Oh hold on, you're not originally English are you? Oh, great! That's just fucking great!" I wave my hands dramatically in the air. Ian shook his head and took my folk with the piece of waffle caught on the end of it. In a quick motion he slipped the folk between my lips and I immediately shut up. "Chew or I won't answer your million dollar question." He said sarcastically and I slapped his hand away from the end of the folk.

I tore the piece of woffle between my teeth and began to slowly chew. Mm mm... This was heaven! Literally! Was it his cooking or my good taste? I wasn't sure. "Answer!" I snapped as I swallowed down the woffle. "Nice, eh?" He smiled and I nodded. "Answer the question, Ian." I prompted calmly and he sighed in content. "I like it when you say my name. It sounds so beautiful when it rolls off your tongue." I roll my eyes and try my best to ignore the knots forming in my stomach. Oh god, don't let him do this to you. Don't. Don't!

"Answer." I repeat and point my folk at him. A smile pulls at the corners of his lips. "I'm originally English but my Mother is Italian. I've been brought up both English and Italian. My Father was the English one and he's a big business man."

"What do you mean, he 'was' the English one?"

With that he ten his fingers through his chocolate brown locks. "He divorced my mother when I was fourteen."

"Oh! Why!?" I exclaimed in shock. He shook his head and pursed his lips. "He was having an affair. I don't remember much about it. My mother made sure I never witnessed their arguments. After that, my Mother got full custody of me but I was allowed to spend the weekends with my Father." I pressed my eyebrows together in thought. "But surely....with that Italian...knowledg...doesn't that complicate your English? That probably doesn't even make sense, what I just asked." I scoffed and Ian smirked in response. "No, it makes sense. It can be confusing but I've been brought up like it so I never get muddle up. Italian is very good English if you believe or not."

"I don't. That doesn't even add up." I frown in confusion. He was so, so confusing sometimes. "It means that Italians have the best form of knowledge in English literature and language. As you may already notice, all foreign people sound swift when they speak. That's because whatever their saying is something beautiful and detailed. It's pure, detailed literature. It has made me into a inspired teacher."

"That explains why you speak so beautifully." I sighed and he laughed. "I believe everyone who learns English should experience the most beautiful and content feelings within it. It's important, even if it don't seem it."

"Why did you tell your brother I was good at the subject?" I blurted out without thought. Ian looked at me with a blank expression, "That's because you are."

"I can assure you I'm not." I scoffed. Ian smiled a wicked smile. "That's because you don't realise it yet. I've heard the way you speak sometimes. You sound beautiful and the writing and imagination you use in class. It's mind blowing."

"Bet you say that to all your students." I roll my eyes and stuff another piece of woffle in my mouth.

"Trust me, it's only ever gonna be you." He said huskily.

"Oh? And whys that Mr Dubens?" I swallow the piece of woffle. He leaned closer towards me until our noses were only inches apart. "Perché" He whispers in that Italian sexy voice of his. "What does that mean?"

"Ti amo confondendo...la sua dolce tortura."

I groan in annoyance. "You are getting on my bloody nerves now."