Cooking with someone was way better than cooking alone, at least from Bryan's perspective. Being with Beverly was nothing short of magical or wasn't even conceivable how much he looked forward to her presence. She made him smile even when he didn't intend to, made him think about the smallest of details. She was a piece he never knew he needed until she was in his face.
"Are you spacing out at such a critical moment?" She stood arms akimbo in a sky blue apron he owned, waving the spatula she held like she was brandishing a weapon. She looked formidable for a superhero but even more formidable as a villain. Spatula Girl, the name did have a ring to it. But he knew that mentioning it was going to get him hit between the eyes and he'd very much like to avoid that.
"I was just thinking about what to add, that's all." He said as a way of explanation but then she gave a sly smile and said, "Well, look."
He looked to where she pointed and had to hold back the urge to cover his mouth with his hands. She was the fastest cook he'd ever seen, the smell of steaming buns greeted his nostrils and he inhaled deeply. He didn't need a soothsayer to tell him that it was easy to be addicted to the atmosphere she came with. She was beautiful, her cooking was no less beautiful. It was something that he appreciated, immensely in fact.
"Wait, did you do all this while I was spacing out or you have some sort of superpower?" He asked and she gave an airy laugh that warmed his heart considerably. Everything she did was artistic in ways he couldn't even understand.
"You can call it a superpower, it doesn't fall too far off the mark. I told you I went to New York University, didn't I? Well, soon after that, I decided to pick up some culinary skills, and here I am. It was short but definitely worth seeing that expression on your face." She pointed at him as she gave a burst of resounding laughter at the incredulous expression on his face, giving him a comical look.
"You really should see your face right now, but I'm not the type of person to spoil something fun. In any case, how do you have literally every type of foodstuff in your house? Did you hoard a grocery store?" She asked in a playful gesture even though the shock remained. He had everything she needed to bake a cake and do a mini party. He was seriously the most meticulous bachelor she knew and she wondered if he had anybody come over to help. The thought wasn't helping so she dispelled it immediately.
"Now, you're just exaggerating. I stock the house only with enough food to lost a month or two since being outdoors isn't my style. Nothing too fancy, just the necessities." He stated like a proud father of two children but in this case, a proud bachelor with lots of food.
"You know, this is typically Hansel and Gretel kind of situation. House in the woods, enough food, etc." Beverly teased as she set the table for two, looking up to him for approval. She didn't know why his opinion on the way she cooked mattered to her, she just knew that it mattered more than any other opinion of her cooking up until that point. Maybe it was the way he inhaled, savoring the smell wafting through the air, or maybe it was the total delight written all over his face. His facial expression made her want to do more, cook more than she'd ever had.
"Well, a house made of food is over the top, don't you think? I still think it is anyway. Also, does that mean that Hansel and Gretel followed their noses throughout? That's a chef's dream! People who truly appreciate food." He inhaled again as butterflies filled her stomach. He romanticized food, made it way more than it actually was. He made her crave to tasted the food she made and it was a really wholesome feeling.
She set the table as daintily as she could, making sure not to trip in the process. She intended for it to be perfect and she was going to make it so. The table was set, lots of buns and cookies littered the tray in a mouth-watering fashion, one that made her want to reach out to grab one.
"This is simply ecstatic." Bryan's eyes were closed as he savored the burst of flavors in his mouth, taking him beyond his expectations. She made his mouth water even more after the first taste and it took more than a lot before he remembered proper etiquette and decorum. She watched with her hands on her chin, elbows on the table, eyes staring straight at him. Nobody had quite adulated her cooking the way he did, nobody had expressed such love for it. She was bursting at the seams with joy but resolved to hold it all in and just watch him. She ate as daintily as she could, watching him wolf down the food she prepared. Food was a love language, one of the most important to her.
"So, I can see you enjoyed that." She smiled from ear to ear as she teased him while he wiped his mouth with a napkin. She forgot about life before she met him, even though it was momentarily. He took control of her senses without meaning to and showed her a world she never believed existed.
"Enjoyed is a gross understatement. I loved every bite. Where did you learn to create such magic?" He asked with reverence in his eyes. For the first time, she wasn't just proud of her cooking, she wanted to show it off to the world. He gave herself confidence unlike never before and she held on to it like a lifeline, afraid it was going to escape from her.
"I don't know what to say, honestly. Watching you was every bit as pleasurable as eating it. Thank you for that." She effused, happiness dripping from her words. Bryan knew that cooking meant a lot to her even if she never said it, he knew it without being told. She didn't look like the type of person to take over the kitchen but as soon as she entered his, she took over and left him with nothing to do. With the way she whistled, he could tell that she enjoyed whatever it was she was doing and he wasn't going to deny her that, not if he couldn't help it.
"Why are you thanking me? I should be the one to thank you for introducing my taste buds to such divine bursts of flavors. It is like a paradise of flavors. I didn't want it to end, at all." As Bryan spoke, Beverly felt a blush creep up her cheeks, and the serious way it was said made it all the more credible.
"You're too kind, I have no words. I want to thank you for letting me stay the night but every time, you take me unawares and do more than you did prior to that time. It's like when I try to thank you, you always go beyond and prove to me that there are some things that thanks cannot solve, never." Beverly said, eyes misting with tears of gratitude. Bryan felt uneasy at first but shook it off and smiled brightly saying,
"Nah, you're the one seeing from a different perspective. I'm the one who should be thankful for you. You accepted my humble home and made it feel more alive than it ever had. I have you to thank for that, for bringing your light into a place where it was needed."
Beverly didn't know what to say after that, he rid her of speech so well, it would have been irksome if he wasn't so sweet. She wanted to tell him about everything and nothing, she wanted him to get to know her from the depths of her soul and that scared her more than anything else. She was meant to be a predator but this time she was in an unrecognized open sea, no prey in sight. She didn't know what to expect, didn't know what to do. She was smack dab in the middle and yet, there was no iota of fear. It was calm, serene even. She could bask in it, it was as clear as day.
"Uhm, thanks still. You speak so well when you actually speak. So, can you tell me more about yourself? I'm just intrigued, nothing more." She said, her hands raised in a peace gesture. He didn't want her to feel like she had to be guarded around him so he waved it away.
"You know that if you have questions, you just have to ask?" He said with the calmest smile she'd seen, free from deceit of all forms. It was a smile that reached his eyes, a smile that she couldn't help but return. That was the kind of influence he had on her in less than 24 hours. Everything she held as unshakable crumbled when she talked to him, crumbled like they were made of sand.
"I know, I do. Trust me. I just feel better telling you to talk about yourself instead. It gives me the chance to listen to you and collect my thoughts simultaneously. Two birds, one stone."
Her explanation was pretty solid so he thought nothing of it. Actually, she was like an open book, yet with no end. It wasn't about being open, not with her. She was like an eternal fountain, never running dry. He knew that just being in her presence rejuvenated him, made his mind considerably sharper. There was no way to explain it, how was he to explain everything he felt without seeming like some lovestruck teenager?
"Okay, that makes sense. I'm Bryan Roland and I have one sister. I read a lot, avidly if I might add. I've never been a fan of crowds which should be plain by now. I write too, sometimes and-" He made as though to continue but she stopped his head in his tracks.
"YOU WRITE?" She exclaimed and even though he didn't see what the big deal was, he knew that she was probably dying to get her hands on anything he'd written. He was planning on telling her all about how he was an author and how he wrote under a pseudonym but he left that all for a later date. Instead, he walked to a drawer inside his room and pulled out a dusty book, coated with dust from being unopened for long.
"Sorry, I didn't say it before? Yes, I write. Sorry about the dust, it's been a while since I brought this book out. But I think it's the one you should see, at least because I know you appreciate art." He said as a way of explanation and she nodded without really hearing him, eyes trained on the large book he held. It seemed like a history book of sorts, like if she read it, she'd discover things about him that he'd kept hidden for years.
She took the book gently from his hands, careful not to manhandle it. It was lighter than she expected but the feel of the book in her hand was sublime, ecstatic. She couldn't hold back her joy, she didn't even want to. It was like the culmination of joy unending, the fact that he gave her a book that she could see that others have never seen. She felt special in a way, like she was worthy of it. She resolved not to take it for granted, no matter what.
"So, would you just stare at it?" He asked in a teasing tone as she held the book with something akin to holy reverence. The way she treated the book made him wish he took better care of it. It was a book from the days where writing was his existence, he breathed it. He couldn't do without it, not even for a day. He wrote and wrote, like one who was addicted. Seeing her brought back those memories, brought them to light.
She was going to appreciate it, he knew that much. Now all he had to do was watch her do it.