Oh, shit! I never even thought about taking her to a restaurant! I couldn't eat at a restaurant! There are too many people at places like that. But she would! Oh, Edward, you just totally fucked up, didn't you? This chick probably thinks you're crazy now! How could you just take a random woman to your house? What on Earth would make you think she'd be okay with that? Oh, Eddy, Eddy, Eddy.
What are we going to do now? I stare at her for probably a very awkward amount of time, cursing myself while I try to find the right words to apologize to her and come up with a way to make her understand that I'm not a creep. My mind races as fast as my heart and I start to panic but before I can utter a word, she cocks her head to the side.
"What are you gonna make?", she asks calmly, exhaustion in her voice.
What the hell? She doesn't think I'm a weirdo? Her calm demeanor comforts me somehow and my head quiets down. Huh… Well, this is… This is surprising. I'm relieved. Okay, well, what is it? What am I making? Oh, I should ask her what she likes! Okay, here goes nothing. Just ask her what she likes to eat. It's not that big of a deal. I can... I can do this, right?
"W-w-w-w-what d-d-do…", I start to say, but she interrupts me.
"Let me see your phone.", she says, holding out her hand.
I look at her hand for a moment before uttering, "Mmm?"
"Hand me your phone.", she says waving her hand closer to me.
Not even stopping to think, I fumble to get it out of my pocket and hand it to her, careful not to accidentally let our fingers touch. She holds it up to my face to unlock it and starts typing something but I'm not close enough to see what she's doing. Suddenly, her little phone that looks like its gone through the garbage disposal makes a dinging sound and she pulls it out, handing mine back to me. She holds her phone up, wiggling it in front of her, and looks me in the eye.
"If you can't talk, just type. You can do that, right?"
I look down at my phone and then back at her. That's… That's kind of genius, I guess. Turning my gaze back to my phone screen, I read the text message she wrote to herself. It says, 'Cat's got my tongue.', and she's saved her number as 'Lexi'. Okay... I should be able to do this. I write all the time. I type too, just on my computer, normally. I type into the keyboard and hit send. Wow! That was... That was really easy.
"What do you want to eat?", my text goes through.
"What do you know how to make? I'm not picky.", she responds, verbally.
"I cook for myself usually, so I can make quite a few things.", I text.
"Anything quick is good with me."
"Do you like pasta?"
"Love it."
"Okay. I can do that.", I type and place my phone down on the countertop.
I open the fridge and pull out cream, butter, chicken, parsley, broccoli, parmesan, and get to work. The broccoli goes into the steaming pot, I make up some Alfredo sauce, grill and slice the chicken breasts, and once the pasta is boiled, I plate it with a little arugula salad on the side, setting a plate down in front of her and one on the opposite side of the island for me. She stares at me with her mouth open as I sit down and I gesture for her to eat. She picks up her fork and stabs a piece of chicken.
"So, what do you do, Edward Kingston?", she says, shoving the bite into her mouth.
I stop rolling the noodle onto my own fork and look at her. She picks up her phone and shakes it as she chews.
"I just inherited my father's company.", I text.
"Oh…", she says, her expression darkening, "So, your dad killed your mom, right?"
"He shot her. I was at her funeral when I met you."
"I'm sorry about your parents."
"I'm sorry about yours too. What happened to your mom?"
"She killed herself… My mom has always been the bread winner. every day, she worked her ass off to pay the bills and I guess she got tired of it all and she overdosed. According to my dad… Well, it looks like he's not my dad, is he? I'm kinda relieved, I guess. His drug habit has always made my life a living hell. He found a suicide letter and now I'm…", she starts.
"I'm s-s-sorry, A-l-lexia.", I stutter out loud, cutting her off.
She looks at me for a moment, tears welling up in her eyes, as she says, "Thank you, Edward."
I turn my attention back to my plate, trying not to look at her. Something inside me wishes that I could do something to make her forget about today's events. On a normal day, I don't particularly think about how others are feeling, mostly just about what they are thinking. I've always had a hard time with emotions, not only my own, but with other people's as well. It's strange but I feel deeply affected by how Alexia must be feeling.
It's probably just me viewing my own emotions through her, I guess. I'm certainly not that considerate. Every now and again, between bites, I steal a glance at the pretty, pale, dark haired human across the kitchen island from me. She doesn't seem to notice but I'm careful not to stare too long or make things awkward by letting her catch me looking. She clears her throat and I realize that I haven't given her anything to drink.
Getting up from my seat, I go to the cabinet and pull out a glass, filling it with water from the fridge. I set it down in front of her and she wastes no time, picking it up and chugging it down before I can even take my seat again. Should I get her some more? Maybe... I pick my phone up and begin typing before I make a decision. The last thing I want to do is get myself into any kind of legal trouble but I feel like I've come up with the answer to all of our problems.
"How old are you?"
She looks at me a bit confused and replies, "19. You?"
"T-t-t-twent-t-ty n-nine."
Alexia simply nods her head and turns her attention back to her food, shoving a large heap of arugula into her mouth, in a very unladylike fashion, might I add. Though classy she doesn't seem to be, the fact that she doesn't seem to care about the way she looks when she's eating makes me envious and I can't help but smile at the carefree way she chows down. I head for the cabinet, pulling out a glass for each of us and then I pull a bottle of Moscato off the wine rack.
She's only a year above the legal drinking age, so she still probably doesn't have the palate for red wine yet. White wine it is, for the night. Depositing the glasses down in front of her, I pop the bottle open and pour out most of the contents, equally between both the glasses. She picks hers up by the stem and holds it in the air as she swallows her bite of food. I grab mine up and raise it as well, though I'm not sure exactly why we're doing it.
"To misery.", she sighs as she leans forward and clinks her glass to mine.
I nod and bring the glass to my lips for a sip. She tosses back about a third of her glass and I quickly tilt my head back in an attempt to keep up with her pace. Maybe I shouldn't have judged her drinking style based on her age... I feel a little flushing of my cheeks as I swallow and sit back down to finish eating. She's pretty much eaten all of her food, so I rush to finish mine and by the time we're both done, our glasses are empty. Alexia grabs the bottle and in one go, she drinks the rest of it's contents.
Wiping her mouth, she places it back down on the counter in front of her and with rosy cheeks, she looks at me, her lips in a pout. I don't know why but this makes me uncomfortable, even in my buzzed state. Realizing that she's childishly asking for more, I stand up and start going for another bottle. As I rummage through them to find one that she might enjoy, she sighs and I turn to look at her.
"Do you have anything stronger?"