# 6 WAFFLES, WARNING, OBSESSION
1995 Words
I woke up to the blender screaming louder than a broken engine. That was enough confirmation that Eleanor was back. Annoyed, I dragged myself out of bed and stormed to the kitchen—the wooden wall separating it from the living room doing absolutely nothing to block the noise. I went straight to her, unplugged the blender, and glared. She stared back at me, confused.
“What the actual f**k, Elean! You came home at God knows what time and now you’re making a hell of a noise. Seriously?”
“I’m sorry, sleeping beauty. I just wanted to make breakfast before you woke up,” she said.
“With that loud rusty thing? That thing generates more noise than a generator.”
“Okay, I apologize, madam. I’m sorry for waking you up.”
“Just keep it down, okay? I’m gonna take a shower. The humidity is messing with my hair.” I stomped off to the room, stripped, and headed straight for the shower.
I spent a long time under the hot water before coming out. I slipped on a baggy shirt, not bothering with shorts—just panties. It was a girls' apartment anyway.
It was Saturday, thankfully. No annoying lecturers or course mates. Just peace. I sat at our little dining table. Eleanor had made waffles—my favorite. I added caramel syrup and took a bite. Heaven. I wished I could cook like her, but honestly, I could barely manage pancakes. Thank God for instant ramen; just add water and it won’t kill you. I’d tried learning how to cook, but it’s like I’m cursed.
Eleanor brought her plate and an extra one stacked with her waffles. She wore an apron over her favorite oversized shirt that said “duhh.” Her golden-brown hair was in a messy bun. She looked tired from lack of sleep, but still annoyingly pretty. Eleanor was effortlessly beautiful. Her straight hair made me jealous—mine was all curls. Her soft grey eyes were so pretty I loved staring at them, and she knew it. Pointy nose, heart-shaped lips… sometimes I wondered how someone could be that delicate-looking. And her body didn’t help either—curvy, slim waist, hips for days, boobs bigger than mine, an ass so perfectly shaped I’d have accused her of surgery if I didn’t know better.
She sat down, staring at me until I paused mid-bite.
“How is it?” she asked, pretending not to know.
“Why do you ask, huh? It’s food, so I eat it,” I replied smugly.
“Yeah, glutton. Next time you’re in charge of breakfast.”
“Noodles sound great to me,” I said. Her face twisted instantly.
“Don’t worry your pretty little head. I’ll take care of breakfast.”
I shrugged. Damn, was my cooking really that bad?
She stood and went to the kitchen, bringing a jug of something and pouring it into my cup. I sipped it—and immediately fell in love. Mixed fruit juice. No wonder the blender had been screaming.
Breakfast went well. Out of guilt for being useless in the kitchen, I washed the dishes. Afterward, I went to my room and grabbed my laptop. I had important business to attend to.
Sitting on my bed, back against the wall, I opened my laptop and entered the password. I opened the app I’d designed and typed in the passcode, gaining access to the CCTV and bugs I had planted in the Finston Hotel. I clicked the one in his room, hoping he’d be there, but he wasn’t. After watching the empty suite for a while, I pulled up the footage from earlier.
A man entered the room. Even with the bad camera quality, my excitement spiked. He walked to the drawer where I’d left the note and read it. I couldn’t clearly see his expression—my low-budget camera was trash. But watching him, studying him, tracking his every movement… my heart raced. I smiled like an i***t. I loved the feeling. Seeing him up close, even through a screen, wasn’t enough. I wanted him closer. I wanted to see his face, smell him—not the neutral hotel room. I wanted him. Needed him.
I watched the morning footage. He hadn’t been in the room all night. I was dying to know where he’d gone. I wanted to know everything about him, connected to him in every way.
He returned to the room later. Different suit. Even in black and white, I noticed. He walked to the bathroom and stared into the mirror—almost directly at the bug I’d hidden behind it. But there was no way he knew.
“Hey, Nat.”
I jumped. I hadn’t heard Eleanor come in. Instinctively, I slammed my laptop shut, clutching it, eyes wide. Suspicious. Very suspicious.
“Y-yeah? What’s up, Elean?” I stuttered. She raised a brow but let it slide.
“So… I’m going out to get groceries and see Laura. I’ll be back in a couple hours. And Denver called—something about wanting to see you.”
“That’s cool. You can take your time. Can you tell Denver I’m a bit busy?”
“He said, ‘If she says she’s busy, tell her I’ll come get her then. Allon Park. I’ll be there by two.’ See you.” She waited for the reaction she knew was coming.
“Ahhh,” I groaned. She rolled her eyes and headed to the door.
“And whatever you’re doing, better quit it now. I don’t want anything happening to you, Nat. I’m serious.”
The door closed. I kept watching the footage anyway. He still wasn’t in the room, but I loved watching the spaces he’d walked in.
“I’m off!” Eleanor yelled. The door shut. I got up and locked it.
I finally decided to stop watching and opened my phone. I had tons of blurry pictures of him saved. I sent him an email from a fake address, attaching several pictures—him reading the note, him in the bathroom, him entering the room.
With a simple message:
I’m watching. Don’t go missing 🖤
— Yours truly 🖤
I sent it. Closed everything. Dropped my phone. I wanted a nap, but Denver’s messages hit me again. It was already 1:28 p.m. Time hated me.
Then came the problem: what to wear?
Why did he want to see me? Why was I nervous? I’d never met him outside campus.
My closet didn’t help—baggy jeans, loose pants, shirts, cropped tops. No skirts. No dresses.
After wasting too much time, I settled on loose black pants and a loose cropped top, one shoulder sliding off. Black Nike sneakers. Hair—another challenge. My curls were annoying, but I tied them up high, leaving some strands loose at the sides. I put on my usual black choker, grabbed my phone and keys, and left.
I made it to Allon Park at 2:26 p.m. Denver sat on a bench with two kids who were chatting away. He wore a plain brown shirt and black trousers, golden hair glowing in the sunlight. He looked so good I froze.
My heart raced. My brain betrayed me. But after a breath, I walked toward him, palms sweaty.
“H-hey.” I waved—immediately regretting it.
He looked up. Our eyes met. My heart skipped. He smiled, bright and warm.
“Hey, you’re here.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry. I got a bit carried away.”
“Hey, you two,” he said to the kids. “Aren’t you gonna say hello?”
“Hello,” the girl said confidently.
“H-hi,” the boy mumbled.
“Sarah, Ryan, this is Natia, my friend. Natia, these are Sarah and Ryan.”
I chuckled at his old-fashioned introduction.
“Okay! Bye bye, Denver!” Sarah waved, dragging Ryan.
“Cute,” he said.
“Yeah, they’re cute.”
“Not them. You. You’re cute when you laugh.”
I pressed my lips together, refusing to react. But my heart? Chaos.
“Whatever. So why did you want to see me?” I asked.
“I missed you around. I wanted you with me. At least I’ll get to know you a bit today.”
Smooth. So smooth. But I didn’t mind. He made me feel comfortable. Safe.
“Great excuse to get me out of the house, Denver. You succeeded.”
“I’m honored. You up for a drink?”
“Yeah. And you can get me something to eat too. Someone made me skip lunch.”
“I’m sorry for making you starve, my lady. Allow this servant to fetch your meal. Any requests?”
“I want one of the cheeseburgers from the park. And a strawberry milkshake.”
“Great choice. Wait here.” He left.
I couldn’t explain how I felt around him. Usually, guys irritated me. But with Denver… I relaxed. Completely.
He returned with the food, and we found a nice spot to sit. As we talked, I realized I’d judged him too harshly based solely on looks and rumors.
“You know, I didn’t actually think you’d come,” he said.
“Can you stop doing that?” I asked, knowing exactly what he was trying to do.
“I can’t help it. And I had faith.” He grinned.
“No, you can’t just assume I’ll come. What if I hadn’t? You pulled the same thing last time.”
“Yeah, I know. But you’re here, aren’t you? And I wanted to see you. If I could, I’d see you always.”
His words made butterflies rise in my stomach—annoying and exciting at the same time.
“You succeeded,” was all I managed.
“Yeah, I guess so.” He laughed softly.
Maybe I finally understood what girls saw in him. He was gentle, charming, warm. Someone like him had girls lining up. Someone like me wasn’t an option. He was just being nice. He didn’t like me—not the way Eleanor kept saying.
“Anyway, Natia,” he said softly. “You look very beautiful today. Sorry I didn’t say it earlier. I wasn’t sure how.”
He… thought I was beautiful? I wanted to smile so badly.
“Nah, I’m not—”
“Don’t you dare say that,” he cut in. I nodded immediately.
“Okay, sir. I’m sorry,” I laughed.
The rest of the evening was perfect. We talked about silly things. I wished time would slow down. He walked me home, close enough that I could smell him, and I loved it.
He dropped me off, said goodnight, and waited until I got inside. I felt happy for no logical reason. And thankfully, Eleanor wasn’t back yet. I wasn’t ready for a hundred questions.
But I wanted more days like this with Denver.
- Writer
