C62 sixty two

Tall buildings and bustling surroundings. The sky looks beautiful and the water is clear from this building. I crossed my arms and watched the continuous flow of vehicles below. There are people walking around, looking like ants due to their small size.

"We're almost done," Cyrus announced.

I faced him, he was facing away, focusing on cooking adobo. It's enjoyable to watch him move, his arms tensing with each movement. He's wearing a white sleeveless shirt and black khaki shorts.

I smiled, the guy I like is here... Close to me... Cooking for me.

"Just make sure it tastes good. You made me wait so long for it to cook, so you better make sure it's good, Cyrus," I teased with a threat.

He glanced at me before placing the plate on the table. He gave me a mischievous smile.

Mischievous yet enchanting!

"Take a seat," he ordered, and I obeyed. "This is delicious! It might be so good you'll scream," he grinned.

I rolled my eyes. "Okay," was all I said.

He served rice and adobo on my plate before sitting down and serving himself.

"You're like my slave," I joked.

"I am your love slave," he replied, cornily.

"Do you realize how many years have passed since you started being corny?"

He chuckled. "Do you realize how many years have passed since I started loving you more and more?" he countered.

I looked away. I felt like his words were flames directed at my face.

"Do you really love me that much?"

He nodded. "More than you can imagine."

I pouted, Wow, I didn't even use any love potion!

"Let's go back together, Be my girl, my moon, my Selene, my baby again," he said boldly.

I avoided his intense gaze.

"Okay, I'll taste it now," I pointed at the food. "If this isn't delicious... My answer depends on whether I'll agree to what you want," I teased.

He panicked. "Fuck! Really? Wait," he grabbed the food from me to taste it. "Our tastes might be different. Sometimes what's delicious for me isn't for you. Or it might be delicious for you but not for me! Are you really basing it on that?"

I laughed. I tried to grab my plate back from him, but he kept it away from me.

"Aren't you confident in your cooking?" I teased.

He bit his lower lip. "Even if you don't like it, I won't let you go," he proudly declared.

I rolled my eyes. "Blah, blah, blah," I murmured childishly.

He pouted. "I can imprison you in my condo, and my decision will also depend on your answer," he joked.

"Are you blackmailing me?" I raised my eyebrows.

He chuckled. "No, I'm just stating what condition my brain has."

"Wow," I retorted.

"Eat," he playfully ordered.

I shrugged. "Are you trying to impress me?"

"Aren't you?" he countered.

"What?"

"Aren't you impressed yet?" he raised his eyebrows.

I pouted. "Whatever," I replied curtly.

He laughed. "I missed this," he softly said. "I missed this kind of banter," he pouted.

"Okay," I said, rolling my eyes.

I started eating, restraining myself from speaking or praising him with each bite. I remained expressionless, indicating my disappointment in his cooking.

"What, Baby? Is it delicious? Is the taste okay? Does it meet your taste standards?" He bombarded me with questions.

I looked up at him.

"Why aren't you starting to eat? Why are you asking if it's delicious or not when you can taste it again? Why are you even asking?" I asked bluntly.

I immediately noticed him swallow hard and suddenly pale.

He bit his lower lip.

"B-baby," he nervously said.

I watched him taste his cooking. He even licked his lips slightly before trying it again, probably to make sure of the taste.

He looked puzzled when he stared at me. It's as if he's saying, "What taste am I supposed to have?"

He tasted it again, then turned to me before tasting it once more.

I wanted to laugh at his reaction. He even shook his head before looking back at me.

"Is it good?" he hesitantly asked.

I shrugged. "Yeah?" I replied to him.

He nodded. "Yeah,"

I nodded as well. "Yeah," I said, chuckling.

I bit my lip before bursting into giggles.

"I'm serious, is it good?" he asked.

I rolled my eyes. "Yes," I repeated.

He chuckled. "So?"

"So?" I echoed.

He straightened up and put down his spoon. He leaned on the table, giving me a meaningful look.

From the way he looked at me, I knew what he wanted to convey. His lips started to curl upwards. That look of his that could melt, but I was willing to melt, cause why not?

"Come back to me," he said seriously.

My lips parted. He was so serious that it felt like there was a hint of both a threat and a plea in his words.