Chapter Fifty-nine
Harry and I enjoyed the rest of our vacation at the Paradise Resort. We did a lot of adventures, played games like when we were kids, and participated in recreational activities. Days were so fast, and now we're in the front seat of his Mercedes Benz, leaving the beach resort behind but bringing all the memories we made there.
We were silent in the car. It was already dark, and the city lights blurred on the window. Harry's hands are on the steering wheel, and here I am, letting him take me wherever he wants. I trust him a lot. We stopped at the restaurant by the street-side to have dinner and watched a fireworks display before going home.
We were so tired that we couldn't make it to the bedroom. We tangled up on the couch. Harry's arms wrapped around me while I closed my eyes and got some rest. I was alone when I woke up, with a blanket covering my body. Harry's such a gentleman even though he's tired. I could imagine him kissing the crown of my head and telling me, "sweet dreams," while putting this blanket on me.
The fireplace is lit up. He probably did that too to make me feel warm. I looked at my newly bought wristwatch; it's still midnight. I swung my legs off the couch and hauled myself to our bedroom. Harry's in deep slumber. I crawled on the bed, hugged him, and drifted back to sleep.
It was already 8:00AM when I woke up the next day. I yawned. I had a very good night's sleep. I stood up and continued to the kitchen. Harry has left a sticky note on the table. "Hitting a gym," with a cute emoji. I put it down and washed my face at the faucet.
Then, I made a mug of black coffee with the machine and baked some cheesy waffles with strawberries we had bought on our way home last night.
Harry must be hungry once he comes back. I should try to cook something for breakfast too. Home-cooked foods always taste better than the food outside, though it's not that expensive and just simply made, but first I'll have to buy ingredients for what I want to cook.
Aside from the watch, Harry had also bought me an iPhone, branded clothes, cosmetics, and other girly things; it was a shopping spree. I was like a little kid when I saw those products at the mall. There were a lot of beautiful things there and so expensive, but Harry told me to take everything I wanted and he'd pay for it, so for the first time in my life I didn't hold myself back.
I turned on my iPhone and checked the internet for good breakfast recipes. I opened a blog post and scrolled through the contents. There is a lot of delicious-looking food I've never tasted before. I didn't know what to choose. I got lost at it and was surprised when someone hugged me from behind.
"What are you doing?" he asked, placing his jaw on my shoulder.
"Harry, I, um, I'm looking for breakfast recipes," I stammered. I can smell his alluring sweat.
"Why not eat me instead?" He whispered.
"Oh come on, Harry. You should take a shower first," I scolded him.
"I want to do it with you, darling," he said.
"I'm sorry, but I can't. I'll make you a breakfast instead."
"Uh, please don't bother. We can eat outside or order food online," he said.
"Please, Harry, I want to eat some home-cooked food. Don't tell me you don't like my cooking."
"Of course I do; I love it, my dear. Now don't be sulky. I just don't want you to do a lot of things," he said.
"I understand, but cooking isn't a chore, and I love doing it."
"Alright, alright. Let me see. Oh...! I want to eat this." He pointed at the Croque Monsieur—the ultimate ham & cheese sandwich—on my iPhone screen. "Looks yummy, doesn't it?"
I know what he meant. This food makes me remember something. "Uh, okay." I moved away from him before this could turn awkward. "I think we have the available ingredients for this."
"Yes, we have." He moved close to me.
I stepped backward until my back touched the wall. He pressed his body against mine. "Harry, stop..." He didn't say anything and opened the refrigerator beside me. I really thought he was going to do something. I hate my foolish mind.
"Let me see." He didn't move while checking the available ingredients in the fridge but instead thrust deeper. Damn. I can feel his hotdog in my thigh now. "So, we got eggs, cheese, ham, and..." He paused and looked at me. "You okay? You're red..."
"Yeah, I'm fine." I shook my head and grabbed the chance to move away. I don't know if he meant to do that. Is he flirting with me or what?
Harry took out all the available ingredients from the refrigerator and brought them to the table. "Close the fridge, please," he said.
I closed the refrigerator and went to the table. We had all the ingredients to make the Croque Monsieur. Harry helped me make it. First, he made the béchamel sauce with butter, flour, milk, and a whisk of salt, pepper, and mustard.
After making the sauce, Harry spread it on the bread. He's such a very good cook too, not just a bartender. He never ceases to amaze me. He's perfect; even in bed he's the best.
I noticed him scratching his back. "Why won't you take a shower, Harry?" I suggested. "You can leave this to me. I can do this. It'll be ready once you're done bathing."
"Thank you. I can't wait to taste it." He kissed my neck before going outside.
I added the ham and cheese to the bread slices. Sprinkled the top layers of bread with more parmesan and gruyere cheese and baked them in the oven until the bread was toasted and the cheese was melted and bubbly.
A few moments later, breakfast is finally ready. I waited for Harry. He came fully dressed in his tuxedo. He sat on the chair beside me. We had black coffee, waffles with red strawberries, and Croque Monsieur. I love the way he chewed his food and sipped his coffee.
I love the sounds of his footsteps when he walks on the floor in the silence, the way he grins like a child when he says something funny, and the way he snores in his sleep. I love everything about him, his quirks and flaws, and the things about him that he thinks are unlovable.
After breakfast, Harry told me that he had work to do. I let him do whatever he wants so that I can make use of my time too. I washed the dishes, then went to the music room. I opened the window to let in the fresh air. I can hear the birds singing from outside.
I plugged in the piano and sat in front of it. I practiced playing Beethoven's Fur Elise. It captivated my heart. Such a masterpiece. It inspires me to make my own music too, not for applause, but for self-expression, music for music's sake.
A bird had visited me, perched on the windowpane and warbled. Its sound is the sweetest I've ever heard, and no human instruments could duplicate it. In the nature wins.
I spent my morning playing the instruments, watching online tutorials, and writing a new song. Information is the raw material, and it depends on me how to use it to make something original.