( The Master Chef)

After a brief, futile attempt to escape Mariana, Calum found himself drawn back to her. He couldn't avoid her because, at the end of the day, or any time, he would be returning to the house. He had truly thought he had successfully escaped her, knowing that she was always in his head. A multitude of distressing thoughts were swirling in his chastised brain, including Trae's horrendous statements. During this difficult time in his life, Calum needed to be tougher than ever to remain unvanquished. He took a deep breath after parking his car in front of the house. That deep breath explained how much frustration he had, looking forward to seeing her. Controlling himself to not be tempted by her was the hardest thing.

When he got inside the house, he went straight to the kitchen, despising himself for having that hope to see her right there. A foolish thing he shouldn't be doing but happened every time. The kitchen was neat and clean, the sink was dry, and it made him think that Mariana wasn't there. It was past 8:00 PM, and he suspected she hadn't finished dinner yet. He leaned against the kitchen wall, his hands in his pockets, his left foot crossed over his right. The thought of checking on her weakened his body. He couldn't understand why those thoughts were so easily accessed by his brain. He was too manipulated by these foreign feelings that occupied his mentality. He never wished to move his feet to take a step, but he was already on his way to the room where Mariana stayed. He knocked on the door three times, but she didn't respond. His suspicions deepened, making him eager to know what was happening to her. After knocking again and again, he decided to open the door. The door wasn't locked, and the way he opened it made him look like an unwelcome meddler. What he witnessed immediately concerned him. Mariana was shivering, wrapped in a white, thick blanket on the bed.

Calum entered the room without hesitation and stood near her, alarmed by what he had discovered. Looking at her pale, beautiful face, her eyes closed, he worried a lot. It was evident on his face that he was scared seeing her like that. He placed the palm of his left hand on her forehead, and after identifying how literally hot she was, he panicked. It was embarrassing for him to admit he was panicking about something.

"Hey, are you okay? What do you want me to do?"

Mariana forcibly opened her eyes, hearing him stutter those questions. Her vision was blurred, but she caught him standing by the side of the bed, looking at her face with perceptible worries. Due to how sick she felt, she didn't say anything and closed her eyes again. Calum rushed back to the kitchen and opened a cabinet to find some medicine. He quickly returned to the room, carrying a glass of water and two capsules of different medicines.

"You need to drink this."

He held her shoulder, assisting her to sit up in bed. She grabbed the glass of water and the medicines from his hands. Time ran so fast that Calum didn't notice how close they were. His other hand was on her back, and his right hand helped her hold the glass while she drank the water. Temporarily, he had lost his true self, a self made up of hatred, vengeance, violence, and hostilities. In a short period of time, without even recognizing it, he became a different person, one he never expected to be because of her. She always made him do things he wasn't usually capable of doing, especially caring for someone. He had cared for her from the first time he saw her until now. It was odd and wrong for him, but it was undoubtedly a beautiful thing. He looked at her, and right after the reality sunk in, he slowly pulled himself away from her. The treacherous fate was doing something crazy again, because no matter how much he prohibited himself from getting close to her, he still found himself with reasons to be near her.

He turned away, but she held his hand.

"Thank you."

Her hot palm touched his hand, making his heart throb insanely.

"I'm going to get you something to eat. I will be back."

It was hard for him to get her hand off him, but he desperately needed to. Not just because of what he had said, but also because of how he wanted to avoid showing how massive his desires were for her. He walked out of the room, carrying his strained self back to the kitchen. Inside the kitchen, he didn't know what he should supposedly do. He grabbed the pan and looked at it, wondering why he was even holding it. These past few days had totally messed him up. Right now, he was pressuring himself to cook something edible. Living his life alone inside this house, he only ate heated canned foods, and sometimes, if he felt like hurting his stomach, he would cook something. That's why he chose to eat at the headquarters; apart from it being free, he could also taste actual food. Calum shook his head, put down the pan, and leaned his hands on the edge of the counter. Fortunately, something flashed back in his mind. He remembered the recipe book that Trae had given him as a gift for his birthday. He wasn't going to lie, but that was the most thoughtful gift he had received from him, and it would help him in this time of hardship. Immediately, he looked for it, and a possible happiness floated out on his face as he finally found it. Turning the pages of the book, he had seen a recipe that was going to be good for her. It was chicken soup, and he had to do his best to succeed in this challenge. He got the chicken out of the fridge, the chicken he had bought at the grocery store this morning. He carefully chopped every single vegetable that was included in the ingredients of the soup. He was too cautious in his work, putting too much effort into it, thinking he was Van Gogh creating one of his masterpieces. Calum was hoping this would come out as a good soup that would help Mariana break her fever and not make it worse. After a few minutes of feeling the hard work of Gordon Ramsay, he served some soup in a small bowl. He couldn't be more proud of himself than knowing he had cooked a better food that seemed to be edible. And it was soup. He walked deliberately, carrying a bowl of soup, a glass of hot milk, and a glass of water he had put inside a flat serving tray. He reached the room and caught her sitting in the bed, her body wrapped in the blanket. She was still shivering, and her watery eyes looking at him touched his heart with an intense sense of pity. Her impeccable, gorgeous face stayed the same despite how sick she was feeling right now. Calum came near to her and put the tray on the bed.

"You need that to warm your stomach and break your fever fast."

Mariana gazed at him, admiring his thoughtful sympathy for her. She sat up properly to grab the food tray, placing it above her thighs that were covered with the blanket. When she lifted the spoon to put it in her mouth and taste the soup, Calum held his breath for a while.

"Mmmm, it tastes good."

A smile flushed on her cheeks while she put the spoon down again in the bowl to look up at him. And for that moment, he decided to continue holding his breath. He wanted to celebrate like he had just won a Bocuse d'Or, even if he didn't know if she was lying or not.

"I never knew you're a chef."

For real, he had cooked the chicken soup the right way, and it did taste good. Mariana never over-exaggerated her compliments because it was the exact truth.

"I don't really believe that you're telling me the truth, maybe you're just trolling me."

She genuinely smiled again, with a little chuckle that nearly lifted his soul and knocked him out on the floor. The sentence above was an overstatement. She was carried away by how he expressed his response. It seemed like he was really looking forward to this thing, and her judgments did matter. In some ways, Mariana slightly felt her bad feelings decrease. It wasn't that she wasn't putting some respect into his efforts by making her a chicken soup, but it's not about that. Because it was him, he made her feel better.

"You don't believe me?"

Her smile was the unexpected profit he never thought to earn; it was worth a hard work. He couldn't help himself but to smile too. There's something about her that forced him to forsake his ego. The acts that he did this night made him become the kindest person on Earth in Mariana's eyes.

"You can be the next MasterChef champion, if you will. I'm not even kidding."

Every compliment that came out of Mariana's mouth made Calum delighted. Yet, he was uncertain of the validity of her words. She was smiling, and he was elated by the fact that somehow, he had made her feel comfortable, cared for, and safe. Standing right now, Calum was awakened from the dream he didn't want to end. Everything happened so quickly that he never thought about whether what he was doing was still right. He shouldn't be doing this. Being happy seeing her smile, caring for her, cooking for her? He was confused why he was doing these things. The world had a grudge against him; it was punishing him a lot, and his heart suffered severely.

"I have to go."

Before he turned away, Mariana muttered.

"Thank you for everything. You could have let me die a long time ago. But you chose to let me become a burden to you. I'm sorry for the trouble I've caused in your life; I don't know how to repay you."

Her voice was hoarse as a result of her sickness. Calum paused in fascination with what his ears had caught. Again, he stared into her eyes, telling her that no matter how cruel this world became, he would be protecting her; he wouldn't let anything bad happen to her. He said that in silence.

"I'm sorry if I'm troubling you, putting you in situations that you shouldn't be minding. You did nothing but good to me, and that made me admire you."

The emotions on Mariana's face were abounding. It was shown in their eyes that they were dying to keep what they felt for each other. Their emotions reigned their hearts, and it consistently gave them pain.

"You need to finish the soup before it turns cold."

Calum was right about neglecting what she was saying. He needed to act like he wasn't affected to get away from her and give his heart a rest. It was hard for him to leave her right there; it was necessary for him to be away while he could control himself and while he was in the right state of mind. Because if he stayed right there and looked at her or listened to her voice, he was sure something would happen. He walked out of the room, his feet disagreeing with him to leave. He closed the door and left. Walking towards the living room, he became like a ghost again. He walked like he was floating in the air, and there was only one word developing in his mind.

"Shit!"

Truly, everything in his life right now was bothering him. Actually, he would choose to become a ghost for a while, if only he could.

***