The Best Friend's Contract novel Chapter 74

''It'll help you get better,'' I smile down at her as I soothingly run my hand on her head, receiving myself a weak smile from her; instantly leaving me to eye the paleness of her complexion, the swollen and red eyes and even her running nose. ''This will all be over as soon as your temperature goes down, okay?'' I assure her.

''Can't wait,'' She tries to smile but the coughs that escaped her lips were making it hard for her.

''We have to get something into your system before you can take these pills. I'll go ahead and make your favourite soup,'' I say, gazing one last time down her face as I receive another smile from her; making me smile back. ''What?'' I ask, confused—did I say something funny?

She shakes her head, ''It's wanton soup.''

''Yeah . . . and? What's so funny about it?''

''Nothing. You just rarely cook anymore—ever since you got busy with work and it's surprising to hear that coming from you,'' She clears her throat, adjusting her body onto the bed to make herself much more comforter as I laugh; can't deny the fact that she's right.

We both look at each other, ''Hey, I'm still a pretty good cook. Making you your favourite wanton soup? That's easy—I can even serve you some Italian dishes,'' I end with a wink.

I've always been the one to say that Kenna needs to spend more time with herself than spending her time at the hospital but I'm just the same. We're both the same. My work is just as important as Kenna and for some reason . . . earlier this morning, when I had to choose between work and Kenna, it was an easy choice.

It was an obvious choice.

Maybe . . . I am giving in to everything when it comes to her. There are these urges, forcing me to just hold her close to my body and kiss her softly, the urge to feel her lips against mine and her fingers gripping tightly onto the tips of my hair or if she snuggles close near my heart.

The kind of urges where I can just want to relive all over again even if we have never done any.

''You don't have to. Just give me the pills,''

I grab onto the pills away from her grasps, ''Aha, Kenna . . . you know better than anyone to consume these pills with an empty stomach. You can't simply break the rules, can you? It applies the same for everybody,'' I say as I see her rolling her eyes yet remain still at the same spot.

''It's fine. Besides, I'm not hungry.'' She tries to reach the pills from my grip but I begin to stand up, taking a few steps away from her as she sighs in defeat—leaving me grinning. There's no way for her to get away with this just because she's perfectly beautiful, with that pretty smile, hopeful eyes, luscious lips and—wait, where am I getting with this?

''Just let me make you something. Just wait,'' I add before quickly stepping out of the room, heading towards the kitchen to prepare for a simple chicken soup instead of a wanton soup—since we don't have the ingredients because the last time I went grocery shopping was a few months back; Flynn has been the one to help me restock the fridge last week when I was too busy being in the office while Kenna was in grief. She needed space and I respected that.

I quickly prepare the ingredients for a delicious yet warm soup, making sure that it'll match her taste. She's not much of a complainer when it comes to food, even if it tastes bad . . . she won't complain much. Then again, my cooking will, of course, be as delicious as it'll look.

''Just a few more,'' I mutter to myself before putting the ingredients in the soup after chopping off a couple of potatoes and some bell peppers. ''Just like that . . . '' I smile as the aroma hits my nostrils, leaving me to taste the soup.

The chicken soup with a few potatoes tastes just as good as I said it would—making me smile down to myself, proud of my achievement even though it has been awhile since I've cooked but my talent has not faded away.

I walk up the stairs with a bowl of soup and a glass of water in my hand, slowly entering the room to see her sleeping with her comforter pulled up near her chin. Slowly, I place the bowl and glass onto the table beside her bed, eyeing her features again; something I can never get bored of.