I closed the door and led him to my kitchen, where he sat me down and went to collect the first aid kit to tend to my finger. The gentleness with which he cleaned my finger with the alcohol made me relax and almost forget about the sting.
"How'd you slice your finger like this?" He asked, looking at me through his eyelashes. This man had such beautiful eyes.
"I wasn't really paying attention. I tend to zone out during the entire cooking process," he gave me a weird look, which triggered a blush that immediately took over my neck, "it's relaxing, okay?"
"You need to be more careful, this could have been so much worse!" He finished up by placing a bandaid on my finger. "I can take it from here. What are you making?"
"Are you sure?" He nodded. "There's beef wellington in the oven and ingredients for a hollandaise beside the stove. Ingredients for a succotash are already in the pot over there."
