“Oh, I love soup. What kind?”
His lips pinch, and then he sweeps his hand toward the counter. Oh.Oh. He made it just by throwing these things into the pot. Oh god.
Am I going to have to choke this down? The answer is obviously yes.
“It looks amazing.”
He makes a face and puts a finger directly into the pot, making me cry out. I quickly pull it toward me, instinctively pulling it into my mouth. His nostrils flare as I suck, his ears fluttering wildly.
God, that tastes so bad, but I don’t say anything. I swallow the liquid down and slowly remove his finger from my mouth, feeling sheepish. “I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to do that.”
He stares at his wet finger and then tucks his hand behind him. ‘That’s okay.’
I nod, my eyes stinging slightly. Fuck, why do I want to cry? Is it because I feel like I’ve failed him somehow, even if I didn’t mean for any of this to happen? Perhaps I’m getting too attached.
He reaches up into the cabinet and brings down a mug, and I don’t even bother to correct him. I let him put the sludge into it and hand it to me, and I take it with a churning stomach and offer him a small smile.
“Thank you. This is going to be so good.”
His lips quirk up, but then immediately fall. Fuck, I have to drink this. I don’t want him to be any sadder. I don’t want him to feel worse. I hold the mug up to my lips and blow, hoping it takes forever to cool down.
Cielo watches me, and I hold his gaze.
“Did you try any of this stuff?” I ask, nodding to the fruit, vegetables, and chocolate.
“Yessss.” He picks up a carrot and pops it into his mouth. “I lyyykk.”
“Oh yes, those are good. Those are carrots.”
“Keeeriit.”
“Yes. They’re really good for you. They help with eyesight. Or so I’ve been told.” He nods, and I ask, “Anything else you like?”
He shrugs and points to a grape. Oh god, is that what’s inside the mug that looks like eyeballs? He makes a face and shakes his head.
“Oh, you don’t like those? Grapes? Those are my favorite.”
“Yuuuukkkk.”
I can’t help but laugh softly, but my mood shifts as I see a flicker of sadness cross his face once more. I know it’s my fault. Well, not really my fault, but I can’t stop the inevitable. “Cielo. Are we okay?”
The question startles him slightly, and he stills for a moment before nodding. ‘Yes, you are not mine, even though I feel like you are. I understand you must go to the clinic.’
Those signs are so fluid, it makes my eyes well up with unwanted tears. I glance away and force myself to take my first sip of the sludge.
Oh god, it’s even worse than I imagined. I gag slightly, but valiantly swallow it down. “Love it,” I rasp as it burns its way down my esophagus. “Amazing soup.”
“Yesssss.”
I set the mug down and reach for a cup, filling it with water from the sink and taking a big swig. “Thirsty from a long day at work.”
Cielo nods and then turns his back to grab another carrot, leaving me to debate dumping this into the sink, but I decide against it. Instead, my penance for the clinic and hurting Cielo’s feelings is to drink the entirety of it and suffer.
So I do, my stomach roiling. It pleases him that I’m doing this, and that makes me happy, even if my stomach cramps at the end.
I force myself to keep it down as I clean up the kitchen, putting the items he chopped up into containers and placing them in the fridge. Cielo attempts to help me, but I shoo him away.
“No, you cooked, I can do this.”
