“I am nothing if not a trier,” I say with a fake modest grin.
“Eat.” She jabs her fork towards me.
I do, but I don’t stay silent for long.
“Fuck, these are good!” I declare after one mouthful.
“You think I’d serve you sub-standard pancakes?”
“I think you’d possibly try, even if just to try to get rid of me again.” I’m joking about it now but I’m still a little sore about how easily she was able to ask me to leave last night.
“That is not going to happen, not now you’ve promised me a hot shower.”
I fight to contain my pleased smile. I don’t know why, but I’m just not ready to say goodbye to Mina yet, even if the only reason she wants to stay in my company is for a hot shower. I am more than willing to ignore that fact for as long as I need to.
“You haven’t shown me any of your sketches yet,” I say, looking at the ink on her upper right arm. It’s a mandala. There’s so much detail in it I’m convinced I could spend years staring at it and still not absorb every single element fully.
Mina shrugs and it’s an action that has started to feel familiar. It’s what she does when I pay her a compliment or ask her a question about herself.
“You don’t want to see them,” she mumbles before shoving another forkful of pancake in her mouth.
“Idowant to see them.”
Mina gives me a measured look and I can practically see the inner battle she is experiencing as she debates her answer. It’s no small surprise when she doesn’t say anything at all, but I’m still a little shocked when she stands up in silence and walks away. In a few steps she’s at her bedside table which I had already noticed boasted a small stack of sketchbooks.
Mina picks them up and returns to the table. She throws them at me so abruptly my knife and fork clatter on the plate as I drop them to catch the books.
“Knock yourself out,” she says before sitting down.
I open the one on top and start flicking through pages, but soon I have to stop and study one of the pieces. It’s a sketch of a fairy, but there’s so much detail in it, I can’t quite believe it came from Mina. Not that I doubt her ability – I’ve seen what she’s capable of at work – but I’ve never seen her work on something like this where the most fantastical of creatures can look so real, so lifelike and yet it’s made up of nothing but ink and paper and Mina’s imagination.
“They’re incredible,” I say, as I turn the page and find myself looking at a sketch of her cat, Deborah Harry. It’s unfinished but that doesn’t make it any less of a work of art.
“They’re just doodles,” she says, not catching my eye.
“They’re so much more than doodles,” I say as I notice a pair of angel wings similar to those I noticed on Mina’s back. “They’re brilliant.”
“Just a hobby,” she tries again to dismiss my compliments.
“You’re going to annoy me if you keep belittling your talent,” I say and I mean it jovially, playfully, but it comes out a little harsher than that, but I don’t regret it when it gets Mina’s attention, her big, dark eyes finding mine.
“God forbid I cause the ever-cheerful Charlie Atkinson to frown for a second,” she says and her words are heavy with sarcasm.
I keep her gaze on me as I reply, “I could think of a few ways you could make it up to me.”
That stuns her even more but I have no regrets. I’ve been itching to flirt with her all morning, afraid it was unwelcome, that last night was a one-and-done thing, but I really don’t want it to be. I know that much already but what I don’t know is if Mina feels the same way. In fact, I have absolutely no clue how Mina is feeling.
I study her reaction and much to my frustration, it’s unreadable. She simply drops her eye contact and goes back to eating her pancakes.
After making my way through both of her sketchbooks, I also finish up my breakfast and then stand quickly to clean up.
“Sit your arse back down,” Mina says, standing and grabbing the plates out of my hands. “You cooked. I clean.”
“I wouldn’t call what I did cooking. You saved the day, remember?”
“Don’t argue with me,” Mina says as she walks to the kitchen sink. My stomach sinks at her stubborn hostility, but then she turns and looks at me over her shoulder. “Unless of course, you want me to pound your ass all over again.”
And that makes me smile. And blush. And gives me a hopeful hint at what Mina may be feeling.
