Isabella's POV.
I was reluctant about it but I finally changed into my nightwear as I heard the sound of plates in my head and then I realized that it was only Declan that could do such. After all, it was only me and him in the entire house.
I made my way downstairs as I felt the coldness of the floor beneath my feet and my eyes landed on Declan. He was wearing sweatpants and a plain black T-shirt. The sleeves of the t-shirt were rolled up to his elbow, like he would normally do. He stood in front of the gas cooker as though he belonged there.
“Do you cook?” I asked, leaning against the doorframe with my arms crossed over my chest as he turned to look at me.
“I learnt how to cook from my grandmother and I really never saw it as a necessity to use my skills but I guess I have to do it
