Chapter 6
1098 Words
Anders jogs down the sidewalk towards his house. Perspiration covers his skin- a testament to the energy expended during his run. This is routine. Going for a run in the wee hours of the morning. It is his way of having the right start to his day.
From his vantage point, he has a clear view of his apartment. It is a beautiful house, a modern design with unique architectural structure and that's why he had purchased the property. He reaches his front porch in no time.
Still panting from his run, he checks his smartwatch and smiles to himself at the accomplishment. He did half a mile more than yesterday’s run. He checks the time; 7am. Just in time. Today can’t start any better.
But that soon changes as he steps inside the house. His breath catches, not from his run but from the fear that immediately fills him.
There is smoke everywhere. His only rational explanation; Fire!
His house is burning!
He doubles his pace, runs inside the house in panic.
Electra! His mind hits him with the thought of her.
His angst doubles. Electra is inside the house. He runs faster. Frantic, he plunges deeper into the house. He reaches her room and yanks open the door.
“Electra!” He screams. “Electra!”
No response. His panic rises. Then he hears it. The wheezing cough. That's when he notices the smoke is coming from the kitchen.
He sprints toward that section of the house. The smoke is thicker here. He hears the cough again.
“Electra!” He calls.
This time she responds, humming a response through her wheezing.
Anders moves through the smoke. He locates a switch and puts on the cooker’s extractor fan. In minutes, the smoke begins to subside and the dense air begins to clear.
A clear figure of Electra materializes. He trails the length of her. He scans the spacious kitchen but sees no sign of fire.
“Are you alright?” He asks, wondering how and why there's so much smoke in here.
She beats her chest and coughs to clear her throat before she responds.
“Yes. Thank you. I didn’t know you had that.” She says in reference to the extractor fan.
Stunned, Anders watches her. “What were you doing?”
She clears her throat again, obviously still feeling the irritation from the smoke in her lungs.
“Making you breakfast.” She says and drops a plate on the kitchen counter.
“What is this?” He asks, staring at the charred horror on the plate and trying to figure out what it is. Or rather what it was.
“Bacon and eggs… sorry it’s a little burnt.” She says apologetically.
Anders glanced between the plate and Electra's face.
A little burnt? She calls this, a little burnt? If this is a little burnt, Anders can’t help but wonder what burnt means in Electra's vocabulary.
The supposed bacon is dense black, a shy minute away from turning to ash. He looks over to the eggs placed alongside. If she had not told him it was bacon and eggs, he sure as hell can not tell the difference.
He lifts his gaze to her. “This is bacon and eggs?” He asks again just to be sure he is looking at the right thing and his vision isn't playing tricks on him.
He is certain what he is staring at looks nothing like bacons and definitely not eggs.
She glares at him.
He looks around the mess she has made over the kitchen. He never leaves his kitchen like this. Ever.
“Have you ever used a kitchen before?” He asks. The mess she made is just too much for Anders to ignore. “What did you do in here?”
She thins her lips. “Make active contributions while I live here.” She retorted.
“Is this your way of getting back at me?”
Electra rolls her eyes. “Not everything is about you?” There’s something about the way she says that Anders catches.
Realization slaps him across his face. “Electra, you can’t cook.” It isn’t a question.
Her expression turns defiant. Just another reason for him to insult her.
“I did tell you.”
“I thought you were just being defiant .” He says, still shocked at his discovery.
She heaves. “I can’t cook for you because I don't know how to.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me?”
Her eyes grow wide as she stares at him in disbelief, wondering if he has a hearing problem. “Are you deaf? I’ve said the same thing repeatedly.”
“How can you not know how?” His voice is filled with degrading wonder.
The way he looks at her pinches Electra’s nerves and something more. “Well, I can't! You can add that to your list of not-so- feminine things about me you've gathered so far.”
“Are you even a woman?”
Electra lifts her eyes to him, and tilts her head. “You want to see my t**s or my yoni?”
Anders eyes her. Subconsciously, his eyes trails the body parts she mentioned.
“Either would be a better sight than this.” He lifts the edge of the China and sets it down not so gently, the proeclain rattles loudly as it hits the counter top.
Electra scrunches her face in disgust as she catches Anders lustful gaze on her. “You’re shameless!”
He smirks. “At least I refuse to die in shame.” He shoots back, his gaze flickering to the meal again. He is certain what he sees is lethal if consumed.
She eyes him and mutters a cuss under her breath. She doesn’t miss how Anders is looking at the meal like it is poison. She did try to make an effort and this is what she gets.
Cooking isn’t her forte. Never has. Thanks to her Dad who wanted to make a son out of her in replacement for the one he lost.
“Here,” She pushes the plate towards him. “You had better start eating. This was made in your kitchen. It should be satisfying."
She walks off, giving him no room to respond.
Anders gawks at her as she exits the kitchen. He watches her sway her hip in an enticing, defiant rhythm. She sure as hell is stubborn and something in him wants to break her. Make her yield to him.
- Writer
