Lia saved Chase's life.
She knows that might sound unbelievable, what with everything she has said about herself so far, but she did save his life. She did admit it. She is a proper hero.
Also, just so it's clear, she may have saved Chase's life in more ways than one, okay? This is just one of the ways she's done it.
Here's how she saved his life: without her, the man would have been malnourished.
Let that sink in.
She wasn't joking when she said that he almost exclusively lives off protein shakes. At first, she wasn't sure if the man was lazy or terrible at cooking, but it turned out that he was both.
And look, she is not a master chef herself, but at least she tried. She has improved so much in the past decade. She used to live off fast food, store-bought meals, and shame, but as she grew older, she realized that she would rather live with the permanent stench of chopped garlic under her fingernails than survive on something like... protein powder.
Chase is four years older than her, but she is much wiser than him.
In addition to the two-minute protein shakes he makes each morning, he buys these sad microwave-ready meals. The kind that makes you wonder whether meat has always looked so gray. And occasionally, he would have a piece of fruit or two. The stove is just a decoration for him. Honestly, she is not sure how he's lived for so long, much less how he's so buff, but his choices can't be healthy.
So she has taken it upon herself to feed him.
She knows that it's a huge sacrifice, but someone has to do it.
She got truly worried about him when he crowded her in the kitchen one afternoon as she was unpacking the groceries she had bought for the week.
"What's this?" he asked, with wonder evident on his face.
"A squash, Chase," she looked at him, not sure whether he was joking or not.
But he wasn't joking, he really didn't know. "How do you eat it?
"There are a variety of ways to cook it. You can sauté it, put it in a curry, or make a soup out of it... to name a few." Lia told him, almost absentmindedly.
"Can you eat it raw?"
"Absolutely not. It takes a long time to boil actually-put it down!" she yelled when she turned to see him try to bite a piece of it.
"What's your favorite food?" he asked her, still hovering around her in the kitchen.
"I am not picky. I love all kinds of food. You should try it sometime," she told him sarcastically.
"Try what?" he asked.
"Eating. Food." she simply said.
"I do eat food," he stated simply, and she noticed him checking out her butt, not so discreetly, as she bent down to organize the fridge.
Lia rolled her eyes, but blushed nonetheless. "Oh yeah? What's the last meal you've had?" she asked him while continuing to stock the groceries, trying to ignore his proximity to that silent objectification.
"Steak," he answered.
"What? When? From where?" she hailed questions down on him. She wanted to know when this betrayal happened, and more importantly, why didn't he invite her? It's only a decent roommate conduct. Never eat meat, ramen, or popcorn alone. These are the rules Lia didn't make them.
"Last night, it came in a frozen package and is extremely simple to prepare. I can make one for you right now if you want," he offered.
"Oh... oh, no, thank you. I am pretty sure that's fake meat," she answered, instantly feeling sorry for his way of life.
"What are you making today?" he asked. Hovering in the kitchen, pestering her with questions, seemed to be the best use of his time.
She answered, with a small sigh, "Kimchi pancakes, with a side dish and soup from last night.
He clicked his tongue, "Sounds like a lot of work."
"It's not. I just told you..." She paused, considering that perhaps he does not understand the concept of leftovers. "It's just the pancakes that will take some time. At most, half an hour."
"So you like cooking?" he continued to interview her.
Lia didn't mind the questions as much as she minded bumping into him every time she moved in the small kitchen space. His hands occasionally grazed her butt.
"I am not crazy about it, but I do feel accomplished when I am able to feed myself a decent meal. Another motivator is to avoid squandering half of my income on takeout, as I did in my early twenties."
Lia looked at Chase to see that he was still eyeing the squash on the counter.
She sighed again and fought her selfish urges. "Do you want me to make you something? I can make this meal for two," she offered, and rolled up the sleeves of her sweatshirt. She doesn't wear aprons, by the way. Aprons are for amateurs. And also if you are going to spill on yourself while cooking, how about you just change? You're going to have to wash that apron too, you know.
Chase seemed delighted at her offer. "Really? You would do that for me?"
"It's not that big of a deal-"
"Thank you so much!" he said and enveloped her in a side bear hug, lifting her off the ground momentarily. "I would love to eat your cooking. I really enjoyed it the first time I tried it!" he then flashed her a boyish grin, which somehow complemented his statuesque physique.
"You did?" Lia thinks that she's only fed him an omelet. Once. Oh, and there was that soup that partly fell on his chest. It was still nice to hear a compliment. No one has ever truly complimented her culinary skills. To be fair, she doesn't go around cooking for people.
But what if she is an undiscovered master chef?
"Yeah, that omelet was the best thing I've ever had, and I'm sure the soup was great, although I couldn't really taste it," the man sounded honest. But she is not going to kid herself. Chase's words probably do not mean much. Not just because he could be exaggerating, but also because he's someone who enjoys readymade microwave steaks, for freaking sake.
"I do not doubt that. Can you just go somewhere else for an hour and let me cook in peace?" He was still plastered to her, mere inches between them. "I can't cook like this."
"You don't want me to help?" he asked or offered. She is not sure.
"Can you chop vegetables?" she wondered.
"Like, with scissors?" He seemed serious when he asked that. It is truly a miracle that he's still alive.
"Just go," she pointed towards the living room.
When she was done with cooking, she called the man over from whatever exercise he was doing near the TV, and he looked like a kid on Christmas Day when he saw the very humble dinner she had put together.
Lia seriously pity him.
"Wow, this looks amazing. You did all of this in forty-five minutes?" he asked in amazement.
She didn't want to elaborate on the concept of leftover food and pre-prepared side dishes. She wanted to eat. So she just agreed. Yes, yes.Enjoy. "
She wasn't really happy with the way the pancakes turned out, and she was a little worried that he wasn't going to like them.
But he didn't say anything about it.
"Lia," he called out, with an unreadable expression. Just when she thought he was going to spit the food out, he exclaimed, "This is wonderful!"
Wonderful? Is he being serious?
"You don't have to lie to me. If it's not good, just say so. Also, breathe between bites. I don't think I can do the Heimlich maneuver on you."
Chase was eating like he'd never had a proper meal before.
"I love it!" he insisted, with a mouthful of, "You're something else, you know that?"
"Alright, calm down," she replied, only blushing a little. He looked very sincere and certainly, he wouldn't be downing mouthfuls if he didn't like it even a little. She couldn't believe her mediocre food made him this satisfied, though. "Stop kissing my ass." she said without thinking.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he continued to stuff his mouth with food. "But now that you mention it..." he speared another piece of pancake, "Your ass is quite nice and I would really like to kiss it."
Oh, crap!
She set that one up for herself.
Did Lia continue to cook for him after that ridiculous comment?
Yes.
Why?
Because she is a wonderful human being, of course. And also, because he insisted, but they worked out an arrangement. He offered to buy the ingredients exactly as she told him to, and she agreed to cook for two.
To be honest, she is getting more out of this arrangement than Chase is. If we put aside the fact that she is saving his life, one nutritious home-cooked meal at a time, she is actually winning on many fronts.
One, she doesn't have to pay for groceries anymore, for food that she would have cooked, anyway. Two, it's oddly satisfying eating with the stupid, handsome man who thinks the sun shines out of her butt because she knows how to turn the stove on.
And three...
He does the dishes.
*****