The smell greatly increases my appetite, but watching him cook shirtless, wearing only joggers, makes my mouth water more than the scent of the food itself. He’s very focused, too much for my liking. I know he’s cooking, but I don’t understand why he has that sulky face.
We were joking around in the bathroom, brushing our teeth after showering, and suddenly, when he opened and closed the cabinet door, his mood changed. I still maintain a good attitude; it’s not like he’s treating me badly, but his silence and change in demeanor are very noticeable to me, even though he’s preparing lunch for us.
“Does your mom cook as well as you?” I inquire with a smile.
“Especially the soup. You should try it someday.”
I laugh but notice his irony.
“So, you learned on your own…” I comment thoughtfull
