April 2nd, 5:45 PM - Cooking Studio - Chicago, IL Azura's POV

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Retying her hair for the umpteenth time, she checked her distorted reflection and tried to tame the fly-aways that refused to stay in her ponytail.

A few strands delicately framed her face as she carelessly blew at them. Rolling her eyes at herself, she moved away from the glistening silver pan she had used as a mirror and waited for Preston to come back with the ingredients.

Being in a cooking class was the last thing she expected when she came back to do her job.

It felt odd, weird almost, that somehow they were able to move back into the general flow of things.

Having come prepared to face the anger and betrayal after she had left so abruptly, especially without giving him closure after his confession, she was left puzzled by the lack of questions on Preston's end.

His understanding nature and immediate acceptance of the excuse, "it's complicated" threw her off her A-game and she was left to flit around in an unusual limbo as she tried to understand the confusing boy.

His voice brought her out of her reverie and she tried to match the grin on his face. "Ready to get started?"

Nodding she held up her cleaned hands to show that she was ready.

"Alright, so you're going to dice the vegetables," handing her the colourful assortment, "and I'll do the chicken."

"Sounds good." She gathered her ingredients into a large strain bowl to wash them before she started her task. As she set her station up, she tested out the knives before opting for one that was long and thin.

Starting with the carrot, she sliced the ends before chopping it into small pieces. Her initial start was slow but within a few minutes, she had reached a steady and fast pace, expertly getting through all ten large carrots.

But as she had performed her task, she felt a gaze trained on her movements. Before she moved on to the green onions, she paused ready to address his stare.

"Yes?"

She turned her head to look at him and saw him standing there dumbfounded. His eyes focused on the neat pile of carrots in the bowl.

"Do you want them smaller?"

She picked up a piece and inspected it, frowning at the fact that she didn't pay close attention to his instructions.

"N-no. These are fine, great even. I just didn't think you knew your way around kitchen tools."

She relaxed, thankful that he was impressed at her ability rather than disappointed. "Why? Because I never cook?"

He glanced at her before clearing his throat. Rolling his shoulders, she watched them flex under the tight shirt. 

Is it odd that the pastel pink apron makes him hotter?

Shifting her gaze, she watched as he placed the thawed chicken thigh on the cutting board and began to section the meat into smaller portions. "I mean, you don't seem like a fan of cooking, which is fine. It's just the way you diced those veggies was like an expert chef who's been in the kitchen for years."

She smirked, and silently copied his actions as she moved back to cutting the green onions. He had a point. Given how fast and precise she had been, it would have been a skill that was acquired with practice. But her control didn't come from cooking and rather from spending time training with various knives for hours a day. While the real reason couldn't be revealed she offered a vague response. 

"I am well acquainted with knives after all," she teased referring to the times she had used a knife, both on him and those men.

When she felt him abruptly stop, she mentally punched herself for bringing up a memory that she wanted nothing more than to bury. But just as quickly as he reacted, he forced himself to get back to his task. However, the usual rhythm of his cutting was broken and instead, it sounded choppy and fragmented.

"Uh um by the way, did you find anything off when you were away? Did anyone weird approach you? Follow you maybe? Notice anything odd?"

It was clear that Preston was trying to keep a nonchalant act, and the keyword was trying. Already aware of what he was referring to, she was surprised that his mind took him back to that event rather than the night she had held a knife against him. Sending a silent thanks, she feigned to ponder his questions before lightly shaking her head in denial. "Not that I recall, why?"

I can't exactly tell you that I knew you were being followed and had to kill those men, now can I?

"Oh, nothing. Just wondering you know. You didn't get my texts since you left, right?"

Again she lied, making sure to sound calm and indifferent. "No sorry, I probably had poor reception. Why, what did you send?"

Upon being questioned about the matter he was clearly trying to tiptoe around, Preston stuttered before sputtering out that it wasn't important. "Don't worry about it. Just wanted to make sure everything was good."

"You sure?" she tested, waiting to see if he would cave and confess. But he remained stubborn, this time firmly shaking his head. "Yup. Just don't go outside by yourself. Or anywhere." 

She scoffed at his remark, her sass starting to come out. "Excuse me? Does this apply to the bathroom as well?" 

Immediately his voice quieted down, as he corrected his previous statement. "Sorry, I didn't mean that in a controlling way. I know you can take care of yourself, but if you need to go out to grab something let me know and I can tag along with you. You know, better to be safe than sorry." 

Amused and undoubtedly touched by his cute attempt to protect her, she couldn't help but tease the poor boy. "Did you miss me that much?" 

Again he cleared his throat, as he tried to focus on his task. But he didn't ignore her like he usually would have and rather entertained her remark. "Yes, I did. More than you know it." 

Forcing herself to not act too giddy, she decided to place his heart at ease. "Well, the feelings mutual." 

Her confession of sorts was enough to cause Preston to slip up as he fumbled with the knife in his hand. 

Jesus, maybe I should hold off on flirting when he's around sharp objects. 

"R-really?" 

She couldn't help the small laugh that bubbled up inside her. His response was just too pure. 

"Yes, especially movie nights." 

"We can have one tomorrow! Or the day after, whenever you feel like it." He was quick to jump up to bat, ready to plan something for her. 

Not wanting to rain on his parade, she went along with it. "Sure, let's do tomorrow." Seeing his happiness and hearing his excitement was enough to melt Azura. Despite all that she wanted to do to keep her distance, a selfish part of her wanted to enjoy whatever time they had left together. 

Just till I have to go back. I'll enjoy my time with him as much as I can...just until I have to go back. 

They continued to work in silence, and eventually, they reached the point where all they had to do was wait for their chicken coconut curry to cook. Given that they couldn't leave their station unattended, they waited nearby with another couple who were also waiting.

"I'm Yumi, it's nice to meet you! And this is my husband, Fasil." Azura nodded her greeting as Preston introduced themselves.

Allow Preston to do the talking, Azura analyzed the rather cheerful couple. Yumi was bubbly while Fasil was a tad more reserved. She saw the clear chemistry between them, from the sideglances, the body language and their expression as they talked about each other. Unconsciously, her eyes drifted to the young woman's stomach, where she had seemed to permanently have placed a delicate hand.

"How many months along are you?"

Her question startled everyone at the table, especially herself. What the fuck Azura? Since when did you speak your thoughts out loud?

But before she could quickly cover up her slip up with an apology Yumi beamed as her husband drew her closer to his side with a tight squeeze. "Wow, what gave it away?"

Azura forced her mind to keep the explanation short rather than tell her all the observational stalker-like details she had considered. "Nothing, just a hunch."

The couple shared an impressed glance before Yumi stared down at her still flat stomach. "I'm just a little over a month, but can you believe I'm starting to have the craziest of cravings?"

"Right now, it's coconut and she almost tried to eat a spoon of coconut oil. It's been bad," Fasil teased earning a sheepish smile in return.

"So to avoid that here I am trying my best to master this chicken coconut curry, but just watch her cravings switch in a week."

They shared a laugh and even Azura felt her lips lift naturally in response. The gesture was romantic, charming even. But as they quieted down, the couple was fast to switch the mic over to them, no longer wanting to take the spotlight.

"How about you guys? Are you guys married?"

They both started with the same word, but the two words Preston added after changed their answers drastically.

"No, not yet."

Once again she was startled but this time, it was not a result of her ridiculous remark.

By taking a quick glance at Preston's face, she caught the faint pink on the tips of his ears and the wide Bambi-eyed expression. Clearly, he hadn't meant for that to slip. Thank god for her ability to lie through her teeth at a second's notice as she managed to plaster a smile on her face.

"Aw aren't you cute," Yumi gushed as she pointed between the two of them. "So who's idea was it to try this class out?"

Hesitating to see if Preston was going to pull another surprise attack, she nodded toward him. "He's the one who does all the cooking. I'm just here to eat it," she joked, trying her best to keep the atmosphere light. "Not much of wifey material."

But her self jab was noticed by the boy beside her who frowned in response.

"You don't have to cook to be a good wife. You'd be a great wife for many other things."

Azura stared at him with a mouth slightly a gap before forcing an awkward smile at the couple who were enjoying the show.

"The boy knows," Fasil hummed in approval.

"Exactly! marriage is all about teamwork. If he's got cooking, then you get the dishwasher. It's about being able to give and take, to give yourselves both room to grow and overcome any struggles you face!" Yumi quipped.

As the to-be mother advised them, Azura couldn't help but steal a glance at the boy beside her. But it was as though he had read her mind because she caught his eye. They stared at one another, each of them holding the other's gaze. 

Like that, a picture formed in her mind, with the two of them making dinner while a child ran around. They would be laughing, teasing and just enjoying each other's company. However, this image, this possible reality also made her heart skip a beat. Breaking the staring contest, she looked away, closing her eyes momentarily to gather herself from being swept up into an unnecessary typhoon of emotions.

Word Count: 1944