Cecilia Scarlette Locke’s Point of View
How did it end like this? At one point I was simply following the recipe, and the next thing I know, everything is burning!
I turned the stove off as fast as I could, opened all the windows, hoping the smoke of burnt porridge won’t smell all the way upstairs. “Ha-ha. It’s okay, Scarlette. You could do this. That’s just the trial version. You could always start again. So long as I haven’t placed in the chicken yet and dried out the rest of the needed ingredients, I could always start over.”
And so, I was back again with cooking the rice in a pot as I try to do my best to clean up the mess that I’d made. I made a mental note to show my maids my gratitude whenever they’re preparing a meal for me. This is not as easy as eating pie- this cookbook lied to me!
The last time, I burnt the rice since I was too busy cutting the chicken off, so this time my full attention is mainly on it. I narrowed my eyes at the pot as I rested my hands on my hips.
STARE
STARE
STAAAAAAAAAAAAAAREEEEE
I puffed a soft sigh, letting myself relax for a second. I glanced around the kitchen and sighed again as I remembered the argument we had. I am not sure what to do anymore. Maybe it’s just me again… Am I really that unlikeable? Sure I am no saint, but like the magazines said, aren’t I supposed to have it all?
I ran a hand through my hair and leaned against the counter. If Kinsey is so adamant about not marrying me, then what happens to me now? I looked up at the ceiling and took the time to idle some more. If I am not to work for our company, then what am I to do? If I am not a Locke, then what am I?
“Cecilia! Ce-Cecilia, are you okay?!” I was snapped out of my thoughts when I heard yelling coming from the hallway. I blinked back and saw Kinsey out of breath, almost slipping twice on his way to the table. God only knows how many more times he could’ve tripped on his way here.
“Kinsey! What are you doing out of bed?!” I yelled, quickly running my way to assist him up. I frown. “Is something hurting? Were you hungry? I’m cooking you some porridge so just go back up-“
“It’s burning.”
“Huh?”
“The supposed porridge is burning.” He said with utmost urgency. And as if my nose has been only awakened by now to function, at that moment was the only time I’ve noticed the burnt smell.
I almost screamed a long ‘Noooooooo’ and threw Kinsey away from me. Good thing I’ve managed not to do that. What I did though was bolt unto the counter, turn the stove off once again and lift the pot up as quickly as possible. I was hoping to save it.
“D-don’t worry, Kinsey. I got it under con-” It was obviously a lie, especially when I dropped the pot unto my feet for how hot it burnt my skin. The result? A much bigger mess on the tiled floor, and might or might not be burnt feet as well.
Why am I a walking disaster today?
As I slowly turned towards Kinsey’s direction, I could feel the shame burning to my well-being. I literally want the floor to eat me alive. Being ashamed is an understatement as I watch him look at the floor pooled with rice and its broth. I really should’ve opted for delivery instead.
The burn in my hand is in no way comparable to the embarrassment I’ve set myself in front of Kinsey. Can someone just light me up on fire?
“Are you hurt? Did you got burned?” Kinsey had to stop questioning so he could cough. I could only frown deeper as I was still stunned. I am afraid I would make a bigger mess. “If you are, rinse it over the cold running water. I’ll take care of this.” He said.
“But you’re sick…” My voice came out faint and apologetic.
“Go, Cecilia. Please.” His voice is soft, but I could tell that he is not giving me a position to argue on this one.
“I’m sorry…” I whispered in defeat as I started moving away from the center of the masterful pool of rice.
“It’s alright. Go wash up, okay? If you need clothes, just get some in my closet. There are many things that you could wear there. Grab anything you’d like.” He said. And as if the guilt was not building up on my chest enough, he sent a weak smile over me before patting my hand and slowly moving towards the scene of the crime.
Great, I made a sick person clean up for my sake.
I washed as fast as I could, hoping I could still help in cleaning the kitchen. It was my fault in the first place. I thought I would be able to handle the porridge, but it turns out I am worse than a novice cook.
I didn’t get anything from Kinsey’s wardrobe. The guilt didn’t allow me to. So instead, I’ve just changed back to the dress I wore yesterday. Once I returned to the kitchen, the place was clean and tidy already. As expected of reliable Kinsey. Sick or not, he delivers.
He gave me one of his dashing smiles again. “Just in time, I’ve just finished plating the porridge. Want to eat them with me upstairs?” He asked as he continued placing the utensils over the tray.
“Y-yes.” I stammered, hurriedly, running to his side and helping him with the preparations. “I will do it. I promise I can do it without murdering your floor. I’ll assist you back to your room?”
Kinsey chuckled, knowing he only did it to make me feel better. “It’s okay. It was just an accident. Thank you for trying to cook for me again. Maybe next time, I’ll be able to taste the porridge you’ve cooked.” He replied. “Thank you, Cecilia. I could go on my own. I’ll wait for you there.” One last smile from him, and he was gone from my sight.
“Okay. There’s no way in hell I could be screwing this up.” I scolded myself before I finished preparing the tray of food. How thoughtful of Kinsey to actually prepare a bowl for me as well when all I give him is headache and stress.
My hands are shaking a little from anxiety as I could already imagine the worst-case scenario with this tray. I tried to shake it all away before I went ahead and delivered it to the staircase. It’s pure concentration this time around since I reckon that my mind flying away from reality was the sole reason that all the disaster took place.
It didn’t let me down this time around.
As I slowly opened the door and walked in, I was blinded by the light, though. I obviously felt like a marshmallow melting, but I’d already set my priorities straight. As quickly as I could, gripping the tray, walk steadily to the bedside table, place the tray, step backward, and then go ahead and melt on the ground, Scarlette.
Kinsey was so focused on what he was doing that he didn’t even notice me inside the room. His eyes brows were furrowed together as he was looking down, too concentrated on trying to slip off his shirt. Is this considered peeping? Like a very confident peeping style? No. I refuse to think of it this way. I would like to categorize this as a coincidence.
“Fucking, bullshit.”
I cleared my throat, resulting in Kinsey finally acknowledging my existence and doing a little jolt from his bed.
“C-Cecilia, you’re here already. Sorry. I didn’t notice you at all.” He said, making me shake my head before I went to sit at the edge of the bed.
“Want me to… uhm. Help you with it?” I found myself asking. It came out naturally, and in my defense, I just really really wanted to help out, especially after everything. Nothing more, nothing less. End of story.
Kinsey gave me this not-quite-sure-I-heard-you-right-look.
“Help you change your top off.” I clarified, and putting it off to the world like that was enough to ignite flames to my cheeks. How clueless could he be? I’m not sure what reply I was expecting from him. I might be even too afraid to get rejected once again, so without further ado, I grabbed the hem of his shirt.
“Cecilia, I can do this and you-“
“I will do this. I won’t accidentally choke you. I’ll be extra careful.” I frowned, looking back at him. My nerves are already killing me. How hard pulling a shirt and putting a new one on for something could be?
“That’s not what I meant. ” He protested, his ears turning red. It must be his fever again. It’s better to make this quicker for him to be able to rest some more.
I pressed my pointer finger against his lips, so he would stop talking… I etched a small smile. “Good. Then more reason for me to do it.”
Kinsey looked away from me, loosening and relaxing himself a little so that I could do what must be done. I gently moved and ever so slowly stripped him of his top. I’m afraid that any sudden movements would cause crippling pain from his now fragile body- but of course, it was just me.
As skin slowly peeks out and is eventually revealed, I am now welcomed by his toned and perfectly sculptured upper half. Of course, I do not expect anything else for my future husband, but still, Kinsey looks so good. His face turned red evermore as he tried to shift himself a little bit more to the side.
“A-are you done looking? Could you dress me up now, Cecilia?” The way he said it made my head explode like a volcano. I immediately avert my gaze from him.
“I’m not doing this to peep on you!” I protested, enough to make him let out a soft chuckle.
“Right… Right. Miss Scarlette won’t do such a thing.”
I huffed at him when I suddenly remembered something. “Ah. Isn’t this a good time to sponge you?!” I exclaimed out of realization.
Kinsey looked back at me in surprise. “Now, you want to touch me too?!” He exclaimed, copying my very same intonation.
I hit him with a pillow out of the instinct of embarrassment. My eyes flickered, and quickly realized what I did when his frail body fell against the bed. Dumb, Scarlette. So dumb!
I immediately helped him out, seeing him make a face. “Hey! Lessen the violence, please. I’m still sick. I won’t be able to defend myself!” He said so, but the guy was smiling playfully.
“Ah. Let’s get on with it. Don’t think of anything funny. I will be quick!” I said to dismiss the conversation and quickly wrap myself up and take outside, hoping the time I’m out of that room would be enough to contain my darn emotions.
Ah, Kinsey. You’ll be the death I do not wish for.
