The New Beginning

Chapter 3

Leos P.O.V

I was sitting by the kitchen island, watching him cook some pancakes for the two of us. The journey to the kitchen had been a nightmare. Turns out there was a little to many steps that made the walk the painfullest thing in the world. And stubborn as I am, I didn't want any help. I had stumbled down the stairs, pretty much in slowmotion, while Noah walked beside me, carrying my IV and being ready to catch me. But at last I made it down and took a seat on the barstool by the kitchen island.

His house was really nice. The kitchen connected with the living room plus the entrance. If you would've walked trough the entrance door, you would've been welcomed with the coat hanger to your left. Forward would be the staircase and beside the staircase would be the kitchen, the kitchen island in front of it, closer to you. To your right would be the television against the wall, couches and a armchair infront of the television and a coffee table between. The walls were painted a light grey, except for the kitchen part where there was tiled. There was plenty of big windows, welcoming in the sunlight. He had a rich wood flor and his house looked overall fancy. I could tell he was rich.

I turned my eyes to him. It was now I really could study him. He was wearing a white t-shirt and some black sweatpants. I studied how his muscles traveld from one connection to another, creating a beautiful network of strength. His hair was kind of messy with his dark brown, loose curls that shone gold in the light. I wanted so badly to draw him. Sketch him and put all the stunning things about him on paper. Like how his nose crinkled or the way his right corner of his mouth got a little higher than the other when he smiled. I hadn't talked with him much, but he seemed kind and... to perfect to be true. The fact that I couldn't find anything wrong with him made me question him and the situation even more.

"Leo?", he said looking at me, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"Sorry, what?", I responded confused. He smiled at me when he got my attention.

"Do you want syrup or jam?", he asked.

"Jam", I said simply. He put the jam on the island and dragged one of the barstools to the others side, so he could sit infront of me. Then he put the pancakes on the island, followed with two plates and utensils. He quickly showed two big pancakes on my plate, then proceeding to put some food on his. I saw that he also had put a bowl of strawberries on the island. I ate one and enjoyed the sweet taste. I caught him staring at me, his eyes were intense. I felt the blood rush up to my cheeks. I looked down to hide my face and he let out a small soft chuckle. It wasn't my fault he was so hot! Though him staring at me made me look down at myself, realizing I hade the same dirty clothes as I had last night. The clothes wasn't so bad, I had a quartered-sleeved, dark blue and white striped, shirt that was a little big and some black skinny jeans. It was just that they where dirty that made me feel self conscious. But the fact that I was still wearing the same clothes meant that he hadn't seen my body at least, which was good. I started to try and eat my pancakes.

"Do they taste good", he asked curiously.

"No, they're horrible", I said, trying to give him serious face. He looked shocked and speechless, and I couldn't help but to laugh. "I'm kidding" I added between my laughs. He nodded his face and smirked at me, like the revenge was going to be delightful.

"Actually, they were delicious", I said with sincerity. I never ate pancakes and the sweet and fruity taste combined was like winning the lottery.

"Thank you", he replied with the most wonderful smile. As we continued eating, I felt myself feeling comfortable with him more and more, and I didn't do anything to stop it. We talked and joked until we both were done eating. While he was taking care of the dishes like a gentleman, I looked at the clock. It was five thirty p.m and I needed to get home. I tried to plan how I should leave. Should I ask him if I could go home? Should I just quietly leave? I was scared that if I asked he would try to make me stay, and I wasn't sure if I would be able to turn down the offer. It was so nice being here, but this wasn't my reality. I knew that if I wasn't going to leave quietly I wouldn't be able to leave at all. Even if it was unfair to him. He had just showed me kindness and I couldn't even face him to tell him I should go.

"I'll just go take a quick shower, okay?", he asked. I had moved from the kitchen island to the couch.

"Okay", I replied. This was my chance. I looked towards the door and saw my old, worn out, white converse. I looked at the coffee table, seeing a piece of paper and a pen. Quickly I wrote a note. I ripped out the cannula out of my hand once again and made my way towards the door. As I was ready to walk out, I took a last look around the living room. When I saw my note on the coffee table I turned around and walked out. Grabbing a taxi, I started to head back towards my reality.