Athena’s P.O.V.
“Alright, here we go. I would have to break this red stuff first, then cut the orange ones, and mix all together.” He slowly opened the container, and I could not get enough of staring at him.
Other than our maids, the last time I experienced someone prepared for my food was when Mommy was still alive. Even at six years old, I kept on staying in our kitchen area as I always wanted to help Mommy cook our food.
On the other hand, Helena was indeed the sleepy type. So, while she was waiting at the dining table, her head would inevitably bow as a sign that she had already fallen asleep.
When Mom died, Dad would only prepare the table for Helena... as if she was his only daughter. It was a good thing that I knew how to prepare my food, and being with Paula in the kitchen made me learn how to cook even more. Aside from Mom, who untimely passed away, my assistant and maids at home... now, I had Cristoff.
“Let me help you,” I offered. I was ready to steal the container from him, but he just stopped me.
“No, I can do this. These are only baluts*, Helena. I just dyed them to become red!” he blurted out.
My eyes grew wide in horror at what I heard. “Balut? Oh my God, no way, Cristoff!” I yelled at him while moving my head sideways to keep myself from disagreeing. Because of my scream, almost everyone in the canteen looked at us, but I did not care.
For Christ’s sake, there is no way that I would eat a small chick! Just by thinking about its black head popping as you crack its shell would already make me feel sick and vomit.
He laughed transparently. “I loved your reaction, Helena, but don’t you trust me enough? I’m only kidding. These are indeed salty eggs!”
“Promise?” I asked like a kid.
“I promise,” he confirmed.
Learning that those were salty eggs made me heave a deep sigh out of relief, but I wouldn’t just sit here without doing anything to get even. The next thing I knew was I immediately stood up and before he could even say a word, I already spanked his shoulder.
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