Whispers In The Room

I sit at the kitchen bar as I watch Elliot pull things out to prepare food like the last time we were here.

It's inexplicably sexy to watch him cooking in his uniform.

"You really like to cook, right? And you're good at it," I murmur, after a while of silence where I was just watching him do things I've never done in my life. The only thing I make is cereal when I'm starving and there's no one to make me anything. Elliot shrugs and moves the fettuccini he's making me because he knows it's my favorite. My guts roar again, even though I just ate that yesterday, at Dario's apartment.

"Yeah, I like it. My mom is obsessed with cooking shows, so when I get to spend time with her all we do is cook and eat."

"Oh... have you ever thought about, I don't know, studying to be a chef or something? I think you have talent. I've never seen anybody move a pan like that, it's wonderful. You have a gift."

"No," he replies, laughing, "It would be fun, but no."

"Why not?"

"Because I already have a plan