Lucia—
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"Hey," I quietly say while knocking on the kitchen door.
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My eyes roam his figure as he pours a bowl of what seems to be an egg mixture in a pot.
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He looks...better.
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"I'm guessing Priest Dixon told you where to find me," Silas says, lowering the heat on the stove before resting his back against the counter with folded arms while looking at me.
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I chew on the inside of my cheek as I nod and then lower my gaze to the counter to avoid his piercing gaze.
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"You gonna stand out there or you gonna come in?" He breaks the silence, forcing my eyes to drift to him.
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"Right," I mutter and then take cautious steps to the furthest chair from him.
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I place the plastic bag filled with snacks and aids for his injury that I got from the Bodega on the counter as I say, "I got snacks and stuff, so..."
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My voice trails off as I meet his eyes to find them intently on me.
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I dart glances around the room and I tug at my thumbs in between my thighs, trying to ignore the rapid pacing of my heart.
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I deeply inhale then glance at him before mumbling, "I'm sorry."
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I peek at him from under my eyelashes to find his left eyebrow raised with his arms still crossed.
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"For what?"
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"For...the...other night." I exhale at the end as though I'd gotten a weight off of me.
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He doesn't respond; he just stares at me, causing me to shift in my seat.
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He unfolds his arms and walks toward the simmering pan.
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"Want some pasta?" He grabs two plates from the second cupboard above the stove.
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"No."
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He scoffs. "Priest Dixon said you'd say that. Said I should give it to you anyway, but not force you to eat it."
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I lean onto the counter, cross my arms, and shrug, not sure how to feel about Priest Dixon's comment.
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Silas places a small white bowl of steaming spaghetti before me with a fork on it. "Here. I'm sure you haven't eaten since morning."
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I stare at his back from under my eyelashes, not liking how his tone seems to say he has me all figured out.
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"You know you shouldn't be walking about; you're still recovering from your injury," I say.
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"Hmm."
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I grab the fork, ignoring the droplets of water around it as I twirl some spaghetti around its tip.
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I sigh, knowing there's no way I can escape this.
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"Lord Jesus, please bless and sanctify this food. In your name. Amen." It still feels like there's a looming wall between me and heaven ever since this morning.
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"Amen." I hear someone say from beside me, causing me to turn and find Silas in the chair beside me.
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My breath hitches as he turns his head to me and I realize how close we are.
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"Want me to move?" His breath fans over my face.
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I bite my lower lip and shake my head as I mutter, "No."
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Oddly enough, I don't want him to move. My heart stills as I turn to the pasta and a smile creeps onto my face.
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I lift the twirled spaghetti to my lips before hesitantly putting it in my mouth. My eyes widen and my head shoots to the side.
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"Is it good?"
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I nod.
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He chuckles and turns to his bowl then turns his face back to me.
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"It was my mom's carbonara recipe."
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Was?
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Did something happen to his mom?
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"You've got something." He gestures to the side of his face.
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"Oh," my mouth forms as I try to remove the smudged sauce with the back of my left hand.
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He tears off a paper towel from a paper towel rack on the counter and then turns to me. I move to grab it, but he retracts his hand, causing me to look up at him.
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"You can't see where it is, so I'll get it off. That okay?"
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I hesitantly nod as I chew on the inside of my cheek, keeping my gaze on him.
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I subconsciously jerk back as he leans forward, causing his eyebrows to shoot up.
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I immediately lean forward, maybe a little too forward, as our noses are barely apart and I can feel his breath on my face.
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The pounding in my chest returns. His piercing grey eyes trail from my eyes to my lips and then back to my eyes, causing me to bite the inside of my cheek, and my eyes can't help but make the same motion.
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My mouth opens and closes like a fish as I try to say something
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I lean back. "Sorry. I-I didn't mean to. I just-
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"It's okay." His tone softens, but his still piercing gaze repeats that motion again, so I angle my head away from him while chewing on my lower lip and scraping at my thumb.
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I don't know when he leans forward, but I feel the paper towel on the edge of my mouth. My breath hitches as I feel his other hand cup my chin and gently tilt it to the left to clean the other edge of my mouth. I try to ignore the feeling of blood rush that shoots through my head. I peek at him from the side of my eyes.
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I should stop him cause I can clean myself, but...I don't want to.
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As he finishes cleaning the edge of my mouth, I turn my head to him, and his thumb from his left hand, holding my chin trails the bottom outline of my lower lip.
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I inhale sharply and pull away from him, turning back to my bowl of spaghetti.
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"You know-
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'Not now,' I tell the voice in my head, not ready for any taunts.
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My grip on the fork tightens as I hear him chuckle and then turn to his food.
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I clear my throat after swallowing the food in my mouth. "So, you said this was one of your mom's recipes. Why was?"
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He pauses, and I'm scared I made a mistake by asking as I take in his now tense facial muscles and clenched jaw.
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"She's dead."
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"Oh."
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"So is my dad."
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So, he's an orphan?
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"Oh," I say, regretting my question.
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"So, you...live alone?"
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"Technically no. I kinda live in the cathedral--the room you were in that night, but my...job keeps me busy, so I sometimes sleep in provided spaces at the job site." He moves bits of spaghetti in his bowl back and front.
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"Oh."
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"You didn't respond to my apology," I say, deciding to change the subject.
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"What'd you want me to say?" He asks, shoving the last of his spaghetti into his mouth.
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I shrug. I don't know what I would've wanted him to say, but I was at least hoping for a 'thank you' or 'it's okay.'
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"Maybe an 'it's okay' or something like that," I mumble into the spaghetti about to enter my mouth, glancing at him from the side of my eyes.
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He chuckles as he nods and unfolds his arms from the counter.
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I swallow the last bit of food in my mouth when I feel a breeze move past me and find myself face-to-face with Silas. I find him looming over me with his right hand on the counter supporting him, and my pulse quickens.
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I freeze and let my widened eyes trail from his supporting arm to his eyes. "What-
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"It's okay," he responds. As he speaks, his breath fans over my face, reminding me of our proximity; his nose is touching mine, and it won't take but a push for his lips to...
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I swallow as warmth rushes through me.
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I turn my eyes from his face trying to avoid his intense grey eyes, but I just can't. As I peek at him from the side of my eyes, I watch his pupils dilate, causing me to bite my lip and dart glances around the room.
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"Ok. I get it," I mumble, looking down at my feet. "Now, can you please...
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He licks his lips and then backs away from me while chuckling. "You should see your face."
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I place both my hands on each side of my cheek and turn back to my bowl, asking myself what just happened.
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