Page 63 of Whispers of Fire

“Let's go downstairs, I'll cook you somethin’.”

She pouts like she doesn't want to leave the bed but her belly growls again, making me laugh.

“C’mon, gotta feed my little monster,” I say, teasin’ her. “You like macaroni and cheese, Angel?” She shrugs and that's when I wonder what she actually eats everyday. She has so many fuckin' weird rules to follow like the brown dresses and forbidden books and shit, it wouldn't be a surprise that she'd have restricted foods too.

“What do you eat normally, like every day?” I ask her as we walk downstairs. I wanna know what my girl likes so I can buy it for her.

Don't say that.

You're leaving.

There's no point knowing more about her .

She starts to sign but I don't get it. I haven't reached the food section in my online courses, which are going pretty well but I'm still far from understanding everythin’ which pisses me off. Cause I have no fuckin’ patience and I want to understand her, always. I never want her to feel alone or excluded. I make a mental note to tackle more signs everyday to make it easier for her.

“Wait, I'll get the notebook.” As we reach the kitchen, I give her the pen and the notebook I always keep out on the counter for her since the first time she came here.

“Ham and potatoes. Nothing fancy. We don't have sugary foods, the Ascendium says we need to eat like peasants to stay on the right path.” My eyes widen at her words.

Like fuckin' peasants?

That’s it, I’m making her macaroni and cheese.

I fuckin' hate the people who force her to live such a flavourless life. I want her to know everything about the world.

“Do you like eatin’ this way?” I ask, clenching my jaw to avoid saying what I really think. She doesn't answer right away, then looks at the window toward her house and shrugs one shoulder.

“Really?” I push her a bit.

She shakes her head.

Yeah, that's what I thought.

“Alright, write down anythin’ you wanna try and I'll get it for ya, sweetheart.” I walk towards the fridge to take the cheese and the butter out. She shakes her head, her eyes suddenly shy like she doesn't want to bother me or somethin’.

Don't like when she does that, cause how could she ever bother me?

“Angel, none of this with me.” I motion my chin toward the notebook.

“Write.” I point to the pen with my index finger.

She makes a little sigh and starts to write. I like that she's as stubborn as me, keeps me on my feet. Never liked my women to be dull. I like the challenge, knowing that I'll have someone who won't be afraid of me and tell me I'm wrong when I fuckin' am. That's why I don't like the girls hanging at our club. They only see me as the vice-president, trying to get in my bed just to secure their place as an old lady.

What challenge is there in it?

As I glance over Rose's list, a smirk tugs at the corner of my lips. Oreos, cupcakes, waffles, pizza… she’s aiming for the good stuff.

"Alright, got it," I say with a chuckle, scanning over her choices. "Looks like we're going all out." I have to bite the inside of my cheeks when I see her shy smile sending a surge of warmth in my chest. Can’t stop myself to picture us out in town, grabbing a bite of pizza after driving up the hills on my bike.

You're leaving, Vox, none of it will ever happen .

I shove this thought away, trying to focus on my girl and each second I can get with her until I'll eventually have to leave.

Like a fuckin’ crack addict.

She then sits on the stool and starts drawing on the notebook while I cook.

Could fuckin’ get used to this.

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